


The Devil's Crucible

by webspinner2



Series: The Witching Hour [5]
Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood Magic, Historical References, M/M, Secret Society, State Sanctioned Murder, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-02-04 10:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 59,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12768987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webspinner2/pseuds/webspinner2
Summary: It's been three years since the birth of Alec and Magnus' son Aiden, and things couldn't be better, until the sudden death of a reclusive old warlock changes everything...





	1. Chapter 1

**cru•ci•ble ˈkro͞osəb(ə)l/ noun: crucible: a place or occasion of severe test or trial**

**“There is prodigious fear in seeking loose spirits”  
― Arthur Miller, The Crucible**

****

****  


Janus Dark puttered around his tiny potion shop in New York City carefully placing the arcane and unusual items, that were his stock-in-trade, back on the floor-to-ceiling shelves that lined the stone walls. The old fashioned bird cages containing his pet ravens had already been hung, and with any luck he would be back in business within a couple of days. It had been three years since he'd fled New York, concerned about the return of that frightful Lucia, the mere thought of her still made him shudder.. He'd heard that Magnus Bane had disposed of his half sister in short order, but there was no point in taking chances, not where that family was concerned.

The ancient warlock put his hands into the cardboard box he was emptying and pulled out a fancy wooden sign that read 'The Mortar & Pestle Potion Dispensary'. Dusting it off with the sleeve of his robe, the potion maker took it carefully outside and hung it over the door of his shop. He stood quietly for a few moments listing to the sounds of the city, hidden from the curious stares of his fellow New Yorkers by the deep shadows of the blind alley that sheltered the entrance to his shop. He had missed New York, its brashness and bustle and hoped he would be able to ply his trade here for many years to come. Taking a final deep breath, Janus Dark re-entered the shop. It was time for tea and to check any messages that had followed him from his shop in Moscow. 

As the old potion master sat at the small round table in front of the fireplace enjoying his tea, he opened the first of the fire messages that had been forwarded from Russia; of course, it was from the Abbot of the Hellfire club. Dark heaved a sigh, it wasn't that he hadn't been expecting it, but the potion they required was complex and difficult to make under the best conditions, in the middle of a move, however, was definitely not the best of conditions. Once he finished his tea, he would have to dig out the ingredients and set to work on the order. Sometimes he wished he wasn't the only potion maker who could make the damn stuff. 

The Hellfire Club had been good customers of his for generations and paid the exorbitant fees he charged without complaint. Still, he knew he was perhaps crossing a line doing business with them, and the last thing he wanted was trouble of any kind. He knew the Club boasted an exclusive membership of wealthy and powerful downworlders, mundanes and even shadowhunters, who had a taste for exotic, illegal and dangerous pleasures. The head of the organization was referred to as the Abbot or Abbess, depending on the gender, and the rank and file were addressed as Brother or Sister and their given name. Secretive as the club was, that was more than most people knew about it.

Pushing away the remains of his now cold tea, Janus Dark reached across the table to grab an old, elaborately carved box. The slightest touch of his vermilion magic and the top sprang open revealing hundreds of recipe cards written in the potion maker's own spidery hand. He quickly flipped through the potions until he found the one he was looking for, 'Curatio Daemonium Insanitas', the cure for Demon Pox. 

Curatio, cure, as if, Janus Dark thought to himself sarcastically, nothing could truly cure that insidious disease. The best that could be done was to cure the symptoms, in much the same way as insulin cured the symptoms of the mundane disease diabetes. Still it was a far site better than had been available at the turn of the last century. Then, men like Benedict Lightwood and his ilk, had to spend their millions on 'cures' that would at best slow the disease, and at worst do nothing at all.

The old potion maker moved around his shop selecting some ingredients from the shelves, and some from boxes that had yet to be fully unpacked. At last he picked up the final ingredient and noticed he was running low. There was enough for a single batch of the Curatio, but he would need to visit his supplier as soon as possible. With all the hustle and bustle of moving, he had forgotten to re-order. Janus Dark frowned slightly as he measured out the dark, reddish-brown powder. He had tried numerous times over the years to analyze the ingredients of this powder without success. Nor had he been able to find a substitute that was nearly as effective, so every few years he contacted his supplier, the strange, reclusive warlock, Xavier Malum.

Finishing the preparation to his satisfaction, Janus Dark set it into the back of a small dark cupboard to cure. The Curatio would be ready to ship in three days, plenty of time to get up to Xavier's and put in a new order. Under normal circumstances he would have sent a fire message weeks ago and be expecting a new shipment at the shop. His own fault, he supposed, for being so distracted. He really was getting too old to do all this moving about. Maybe it was time to think about retirement, although that might make him very unpopular with the powerful, wealthy members of the Hellfire Club, particularly as he didn't know of anyone else who was making the Curatio.

Janus Dark poured himself a stiff shot of whiskey from an elaborate crystal decanter, and sat down heavily in a chair by the fire. In all the years he had been collecting his exorbitant fees from the Hellfire Club, he had never seriously thought about what would happen when he wanted to retire. If he trained another potion maker and divulged the secret of the Curatio, he would become a liability to the Hellfire Club, someone who was no longer useful, but knew too much. A shiver ran down Janus' spine. He didn't relish the idea of spending God knows how many years in hiding, always looking over his shoulder. It was a situation of his own making, the money he could earn from the Club had overridden any scruples he'd had about getting involved with them in the first place. 

It was getting late and Janus decided that he would need get an early start in the morning. Further contemplation of this terrible situation with the Hellfire Club was unlikely to result in any immediate solutions. His supplier, Xavier Malum lived in an decrepit old house outside of Salem, the town infamous for its witch trials in the late 1600's. Janus still felt a hearty dislike of the place, though no actual witch or warlock had been burned. Mundanes could be so paranoid and unpredictable at times. Fortunately their excesses usually only harmed themselves, still it was the idea of torturing and hanging witches that did not sit well with the potion maker. 

The morning found Janus Dark knee deep in requests from local clients wishing to restock their cupboards with the herbs, potions and charms he specialized in. News certainly travelled fast among the downworlders of New York. One request had even come from Magnus Bane, and you didn't ignore the High Warlock of Brooklyn if you wanted a thriving business in this city. Sighing, Janus hoped he could get through this work and still make it to Salem before dark.

Heaving a deep sigh as he put the finishing touches on the last potion of the day, Janus Dark realized that the deep shadows of evening had gathered around his shop and he dearly wished he could put off the trip to Xavier's one more day. Salem after dark, when the spirits of the unquiet dead were abroad, was not somewhere he wanted to be. Dark knew better than to think that ghosts were harmless, especially when fuelled by the rage of unredressed wrongs. 

Heaving a sigh of resignation, Janus took his cloak from a hook by the door, grabbed his walking stick and a small bundle of rare dried herbs, and prepared to open a portal. The herbs he intended to leave as an offering, a tribute of sorts, at the entrance to the Witch Trial Memorial in the Old Burying Point Cemetery; from there, it would be a short walk to Xavier's house which stood just outside Old Salem.

Tumbling out of the portal, Janus dusted himself off and took a furtive look around. The Memorial was a small plot of trees and grass surrounded on three sides by a low stone wall. Cantilevered out from the wall were rough stone benches, each carved with the name, manner and date of death of a victim of the Salem Witch Trials. The Memorial seemed to be deserted, and the potion maker let out the breath he'd been holding, and tried to get his nerves back under control. It was foolish, after all, to let himself get so rattled over nothing.

Janus bent down to lay his tribute by the entrance, and when he rose again, he saw the ghostly image of a woman, dressed in old fashioned clothing that appeared to be quite ragged and dirty. Her head was tilted at an odd angle and she was glaring fixedly at the old potion maker. Janus Dark gasped as fear gripped his heart, he knew that if he could see the inscription on the bench where she sat, it would read 'Sarah Good Hanged July 19, 1692'.... 

"You're too late!" She croaked; "The wizard's been tried, found guilty and executed!"

"W-wizard? Janus Dark stammered.

"Don't be stupid;" the apparition snarled. "Condemn the innocent, and God will give you blood to drink!"

It was the echo of what she had said to the judges, who condemned her to death on trumped up charges of witchcraft, all those centuries ago.


	2. Chapter 2

Early morning at the New York Institute found Alec dressed in training clothes and ready to start the day. He slipped into three year old Aiden's room and was busy getting the little boy up for breakfast with daddy. Alec smiled softly at the thought of being a father. The child had been a joy to both Magnus and him, a blessing that neither had thought possible. At first the secrecy surrounding Aiden's birth had weighed heavily on Alec but, as time passed and no uncomfortable questions were raised by the Clave, he'd begun to relax.

"Where's papa?" Aiden asked sleepily, referring to Magnus.

"Papa is still sleeping, he was up very late so we'll see him in a little while." Alec responded. Magnus had been up working on a complicated spell for one of his clients. "Aunt Izzy will be in the kitchen though so you can show her your new t-shirt."

"Yay!" The toddler squealed in delight and raised his hands indicating he wanted Alec to pick him up.

Alec swung the little boy up onto his hip and headed off down the hall to the kitchen. Parenthood had made massive changes in his and Magnus' life, but they had adapted well and neither could imagine a life that didn't centre around their beautiful little boy.

Entering the kitchen, Alec let the child down so he could run to his Aunt Izzy who was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. As soon as he was about a foot from her chair, he started spinning around, proudly showing her his new Spiderman t-shirt.

"He gets his love of fashion from me!" Izzy said with a grin picking Aiden up and setting him in her lap before all that twirling made him too dizzy to stand on his little legs.

"He may have gotten some of that from his papa too." Alec said looking mournfully down at his all black training gear. At that moment a very tired looking Jace joined them in the kitchen. Jace and Clary had been married for a couple of years and just welcomed a new baby into their lives. Alec, who vividly remembered being woken every few hours by a hungry baby Aiden, gave his parabatai a sympathetic look and handed him a coffee. "It gets a little better when they start sleeping through the night." He said grinning as Jace groaned and lay his head down on the table.

"Yes, but once Jace starts getting proper rest again, we won't be able to dust the training room floor with him anymore;" Isabelle said with a grin.

"Just wait 'til you and Simon have kids;" Jace said raising his head to glare at his sister.

"We only just got engaged, I think I'm safe for a while yet." Izzy responded.

Before more could be said on the matter, Josh, Ian and Shivvy trooped into the kitchen, chattering among themselves and disrupting the relative quiet of the morning. The two older boys were now considered fully trained shadowhunters. Shivvy would share that status in just a few months time when she turned eighteen. Alec was very proud of the three young people, they had worked hard during their time at the New York Institute and he could no longer imagine the place without them. They were family.

Shivvy set a bunch of letters and messages down on the table, having obviously stopped to pick up the mail on the way to the kitchen. "Where's Magnus?" She asked looking around. "Most of this stuff is for him. He gets more junk mail than anyone I've ever met;"

Alec laughed; "He is High Warlock of Brooklyn and most of those are requests from clients, not junk mail,"

"Don't know about that;" She replied. "Does he get client calls from Bergdorf Goodman and Sephora?"

"No, more likely he's the client;" Laughed Izzy.

"Here that information package you've been waiting for from Idris, Ian;" Shivvy said as she handed her brother a large, official looking envelope. Josh and Ian were going to the shadowhunter home country to attend a special training course for parabatai. They'd been talking about it nonstop for weeks, much to Shivvy's annoyance. 

Alec glanced over at the two young men who were currently looking at the course details and discussing them with Jace. Truthfully, he was a little worried about this trip. He knew that Josh and Ian were exceptionally close, maybe even too close. It was forbidden for parabatai to become romantically involved with each other, and the Clave was not known for turning a blind eye to rule breakers. They had been none too pleased about Alec admitting he was gay and marrying a downworlder, even though there was no specific rule against it. He did not like to think what the Clave would do if they suspected Josh and Ian were in love with each other. His troubled thoughts were interrupted by a sudden wail from Shivvy.

"Nnnnnnoooooo!" 

Everyone turned to look at the girl who had an open letter, partly crumpled in her hand. "What's up Shiv?" Ian asked fighting a grin as he saw the melodramatic look of despair on his sister's pretty face.

"It's mom! She wants me to come home while you two are in Idris and she's planning lots of 'social' outings." Shivvy cried. She was well aware that 'social' outings meant being paraded in front of every eligible shadowhunter boy in the neighbourhood, a fate worse than death in her opinion. Shivvy had been so looking forward to her brother's trip as it meant she could spend some quality time with Daniel LaCroix, the young vampire who had helped them escape from Lucia. Shivvy and Daniel had become very close in the intervening years, but it had been hard to find any alone time, with two, overprotective older brothers. When she'd been younger, Shivvy had constantly tried to tag along with Josh and Ian, getting mad if she thought they were trying to ditch her. Now the shoe was on the other foot and the irony wasn't lost on her.

One simple letter from home had derailed all her plans, and her mother's directions, that she bring all her best things as it was time she started thinking about her future, and settling down with a nice boy from a good shadowhunter family, made her cringe. She knew her mother would never accept her feelings for Daniel, would be horrified and probably prevent her from returning to the New York Institute if she found out. 

Ian moved over to Shivvy's side and put his arm around her. "It'll be okay Shiv, and it's not forever. You might even enjoy......"

Seeing Shivvy's shoulders tense and fearing the explosion that would undoubtedly follow Ian's well meaning, but thoughtless comment, Jace stood up and said; "Time for training!" In that commanding tone that brooked no dissention or comment.

Izzy grinned as she whispered in Jace's ear; "Good move bro, that could have been an epic argument!"

Alec kissed his son softly on the cheek as he rose to accompany the others to the training room. Izzy would be minding Aiden until Magnus was up. Just as he was about to leave, he turned to sister and said; "Magnus is expecting a package from Janus Dark sometime this morning. If it arrives while we're training, can you put it in Magnus' work room? I wouldn't want Aiden accidently getting into whatever it is!"

"Sure thing!" Isabelle called back as she scooped her nephew up; "Come on buddy, let's get that face cleaned up, then maybe we can play a game of hide 'n seek in the sanctuary!"

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Magnus tossed and turned restlessly, caught in the throes of a disturbing dream. He was back at the Mortar & Pestle collecting the ingredients for the spell that would make Lucia pregnant. Janus Dark stood there, pointing an accusing finger at Magnus as he said; " I hope you know what you are doing Magnus. I have only seen a list like this once before, centuries ago, and it ended very badly indeed.....A child of extraordinary beauty, very powerful, but no empathy, no soul, an abomination ..... abomination ..... abomination ...."

Magnus woke with a start, his heart racing and his mind revolting against the idea that his beautiful child would ever be like the soulless monster that Janus Dark had spoken of. Aiden was sweet and loving like Alec, lively, spirited and innocent. It was just a stupid dream....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 2! I plan on posting on Fridays from now on. Thanks to everyone who sent kudos and comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Previous evening in Salem....**

A shaken Janus dark hurried through the Old Burying Point Cemetery, wanting nothing more than to be away from the long shadows of old tragedy that seemed to haunt the place. The warning of Sarah Good still echoed in his ears; 'Condemn the innocent and God will give you blood to drink.' The old warlock shuddered as he passed the ancient tree that spread its gnarled branches like boney fingers trying to grasp at his cloak, and impede his progress out of the cemetery.

Finally he was on Charter Street and ready to put some distance between himself and that cursed place. Never again would he come to Salem to get a rush order of this ingredient for the Curatio, not for the Hellfire club, or anyone else. They would just have to wait until he received a regularly placed order, or go elsewhere. What had he been thinking.

It took ten minutes of brisk walking to get his nerves back in order, and then the old potion maker began to think about the man he had come to see, Xavier Malum. Janus had met the reclusive Malum centuries ago, when the only cure for demon pox was a potion that would slow down the symptoms. At that time, Dark had already begun to gain a reputation as a first rate potion maker, and he had spent considerable time trying to improve the old cure, to no avail. He loved a challenge, but all his efforts seemed to be nothing but an exercise in frustration. Then one day a good friend of his told him about a reclusive old warlock living near Salem who was reputed to be a genius with potions.

Janus Dark wasted no time in contacting the warlock, sending him a long message outlining his attempts to improve the treatment for demon pox, and begging for a chance to visit Xavier Malum. It had taken three months to get a response from Malum, a response that included a refusal to meet, and a quantity of reddish brown powder with the instructions that it was to replace one of the key ingredients in the standard cure. He was to let Malum know, by fire message, how it worked. Janus did as instructed, and the Curatio Daemonium Insanitas was born. 

The efficacy of the new potion was nothing short of miraculous, although it still wasn't a true cure, managing only to suppress the symptoms for as long as one took the potion. But it was so much better than any of its predecessors that Janus' reputation became unassailable, he was the potion maker extraordinaire. Janus Dark snorted, his claim to fame rested on an ingredient that he could not even analyze, let alone make. Lord knew he had spent years trying. Janus' reputation as the premier potion maker would certainly have been challenged if Malum had decided to market the Curatio himself.

Deep in his own thoughts Janus almost missed the overgrown lane that led to Xavier Malum's house. It was a windy night, and very dark when the moon was shrouded by drifting clouds. The old trees that lined either side of the lane creaked and groaned as they were buffeted by stronger gusts. Standing starkly at the end of the lane was an old weathered wooden house. Whatever paint had adorned the exterior was long since gone, leaving the exposed wood to gray and rot. Many of the windows were boarded up, and those that weren't displayed jagged, broken panes exposing the interior of the house to the elements. Taken all together, anyone seeing the place would certainly be forgiven for thinking it was an abandoned house, and most probably haunted.

Janus made his way up the steps, careful to avoid areas of the porch that looked particularly rotten and unsafe. It was only when he reached the front door and saw it was slightly ajar that the first thrill of fear touched him. Zavier was an eccentric, reclusive warlock, but he was not a fool. The few times Janus had visited him previously, he'd been very aware that the place was strongly warded. Now he felt nothing, and the open door swinging slightly on its hinges was more than enough to tell the potion maker that something was very, very wrong.

Stepping carefully into the dark hallway, Janus snapped his fingers to produce a glowing vermillion flame. It was enough light to show him the cracked and broken plaster walls, and the inches of dust that covered the few remaining sticks of furniture. How could anyone live like this Janus wondered, especially a gifted potion maker like Xavier Malum. Moving deeper into the house he came to the doorway of what at one time, must have been a cozy parlor.

It was a strange, ruin of a room now. The tattered drapes adorning the windows were a nondescript gray, shattered by age, and neglect until they resembled nothing so much as cobwebs. In the corner of the room sat an old upright piano, its once lustrous wood cracked and dusty, the ivory keys yellowed where they weren't missing entirely. The ancient instrument seemed to be leering at him with a hideous gap toothed grin. The old potion maker shook his head slightly trying to clear his mind of such silly fanciful nonsense.

A sudden moan from behind Janus had him whirling around with his heart in his mouth. It was all he could do not to race for the door and put as much distance between himself and this frightful place as possible. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Dark approached the corner of the room where he'd heard the noise; "I-is anyone there?" he stammered; "Xavier?"

The only answer was another low moan. Janus was close enough now however to make out the figure of a man slumped on the floor. Despite the blood that covered part of the man's face, Janus recognized his friend Xavier Malum and hastily knelt down to lend some assistance. Healing wasn't the potion maker's forte, but he could manage in an emergency, which this certainly seemed to be; but just as his magic began to collect and spark at his finger tips, Malum laid a shaking hand on his arm and stopped him.

"Every warlock knows when it's his time, and this is mine;" Xavier's voice was weak and it took an obvious effort for him to speak, yet he somehow managed to sound very calm and certain, there was no fear or doubt.

"Xavier, don't be ridiculous, let me help you!" Janus cried. 

"I don't need any help Janus, but you do, so don't waste anymore time, help me sit up a bit and listen to what I say. Your life may depend on it." Xavier said coughing slightly as he tried to regain his breath. Janus reluctantly complied with his friend's wishes.

Once he was settled Xavier took a shaky breath and began to speak; "The men who came here were from the Hellfire Club. They are trying to produce the Curatio themselves, and somehow discovered I provide you with an essential ingredient, one they could not analyze;" Xavier broke off as coughs wracked his weak body, at last however, he was able to compose himself and continue. "I don't suppose that is any surprise to you, as I'm sure you've been trying the same thing for years."

Janus nodded his head, and again tried to offer some healing magic, but the old warlock shook his head. 

"Listen! He said urgently; "They took a supply of the powder I had on hand, believing it would be enough to allow them to determine the secret. Such arrogant fools. If a brilliant potion maker like you can't suss out the secret, they will never be able to!" Xavier stopped to catch his shallow breath, grabbing on to Janus' robe and dragging him closer. "They don't know! They don't know!" He said cackling hoarsely between fits of coughing. "Here! Here!" He grasping weakly at his pocket and dragged forth a small, leather bound book; "This will tell you everything! It will save you Janus, it will save....!" With one last desperate gasp, the old warlock pushed the volume into Janus hands and collapsed. No amount of healing magic could save him now, all that was left was to do was arrange his hands, and close his sightless eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Shivvy McRae boarded a train to make the one hour trip from Edinburgh to her home near East Linton. She'd made this same trip countless times in her short life, but never with as much foreboding as she did now. Her mother had arranged for her to spend a couple of days at the Edinburgh Institute on her way home, and those two days had contributed greatly to her current mood. She had arrived from New York in the early evening, the portal dumping her out in front of the ancient Scottish Institute. As the sun slipped slowly below the horizon, the long shadows cast by the great, weathered stone church made it seem gloomy and forbidding. Memories, both good and bad, assailed her.....

_Edinburgh two days ago...._

_Shivvy had begun her shadowhunting training with her brother Ian and his parabatai Josh Cameron at the Edinburgh Institute. At that time it was being run by Josh's mother Maeve. The world had seemed an orderly place, filled with training, lessons and routine chores. Then Alec Lightwood arrived to investigate the murder of a downworlder, and nothing was ever the same again. The New York Shadowhunter had exposed the role of senior members of the Edinburgh Institute in the systematic persecution and hunting of downworlders. A battle ensued which saw the rogue shadowhunters defeated, and restitution made to downworlders who had suffered at their hands._

_Maeve Cameron had been killed in the battle, and though she had been unaware of the illegal activities perpetrated on her watch, the family now bore the same disgrace as the Institute she'd managed. Shivvy's mother, once delighted that her son Ian was Josh Cameron's parabatai, now felt the sting of regret and the hearty wish she could do something to separate her son from that unfortunate connection. Shivvy felt regret for a completely different reason. She loved Josh like a brother and knew what a talented and honourable shadowhunter he was. Shivvy's regret stemmed from her knowledge that Josh and Ian were hopelessly in love with each other, and the Clave forbade that kind of relationship between parabatai. It was a secret Shivvy jealously guarded, knowing that a careless word would be enough to shatter two of the people she loved best in all the world._

_Restless, and unsettled, Shivvy determined to walk up to the Castle before making her presence known at the Institute. Leaving her suitcase just inside the sanctuary, the girl set off at a brisk pace hoping to be in a better frame of mind before meeting the new head of the Institute, Gerard McKenzie. A short while later, she was walking the Royal Mile, just like any other New York tourist she thought with a grin. As the night deepened, the lights of the old town twinkled and the great castle was bathed in a warm golden glow. Someday, she would bring Daniel here and they would walk the Royal mile together._

_As Shivvy neared the Gates of the Castle, a familiar site caught her eye, the Witches Well, a small cast iron drinking fountain and plaque commemorating the Scottish women who were burned at the stake as witches, hundreds of years ago. In her own time, the Witches Well had been the only way that downworlders could be guided to the safety of the secret underground. A sudden chill ran through Shivvy, and as she stared at the monument, a strange, ephemeral mist seemed to gather, swirling up from the ground in front of the fountain until it coalesced into the shape of a young woman._

_Judging by her wild, matted brown hair and long, dirty drab dress, Shivvy guessed this was the ghost of one of the many poor women falsely accused of witchcraft all those years ago. A strong gift of second sight ran in the McRae family, so although not a common occurrence, the site of an appairition did not shock Shivvy as much as it might otherwise have done. "Who are you and why have you come to me;" she ask, her voice steady, betraying no sense of uneasiness._

_"I am Gellie, Gellie Duncan;" The woman said in a soft reedy voice that Shivvy had to strain to hear. "I took many others with me to the pyre, men and women both. They were innocent! Innocent! It will come again, the hysteria...." The last bit dissolved into a strangle shriek as the apparition burst into flames and vanished._

_"What on earth..." Shivvy muttered, wondering if the world was conspiring to make this the most unpleasant, unsettling visit to Edinburgh she'd ever had. And what did she have to do with ancient witch trials, the second site was supposed to be useful, bringing portents and messages, not dredging up irrelevant horrors from the past. Shaking her head slightly, Shivvy turned back, she had delayed her arrival at the Edinburgh Institute long enough, and she didn't suppose this day could get any worse,_

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

_The Edinburgh Institute had changed considerably since Shivvy's time there. Gerard McKenzie, head of a prominent shadowhunter family, had replaced Maeve Cameron. He lived there with his only son, Addison who was about Shivvy's age. Gerard's wife, Lucy Addison McKenzie had died several years previously. It had been Gerard McKenzie's job to clean up the Edinburgh Institute and establish a reasonable relationship with the Edinburgh downworld. A tall, well built man in his early forties, McKenzie was dynamic, intelligent and politically savvy. He was also extremely handsome, with white blonde hair, high cheekbones, full lips and a firm chin. The only fault that could be found was a slight arrogance of expression, and a certain coldness in his blue-gray eyes._

_Addison McKenzie was a whole different subject, slight, dark haired with delicate features, he seemed sullen and withdrawn. Shivvy tried for awhile to draw him out, but eventually gave it up as a lost cause. She didn't know what ticked her off most during their training session, Addison's continued rejection of her attempts to be friendly, or his holding back during combat exercises because she was a girl. Finally, totally frustrated, Shivvy stormed out of the room, pushing past the training master and not stopping until she found herself in what had at one time been the secret trophy room._

_Shivvy didn't realize where she was at first, too annoyed and angry to take in her surroundings. The last time she'd been in this room, the walls had been lined with shelves and display cases containing gruesome trophies such as vampire fangs, warlock horns and wolf skins. Each item, represented a downworld life taken for sport and profit, and was flaunted as if it were a priceless treasure. The display cases had long since been removed, and the shelves were empty, but a chilly, sinister atmosphere still seemed to cling to the room as though an echo of its dark purpose remained. Shivering slightly the young shadowhunter was about to retreat back the way she'd come when something unexpected caught her eye. In a dark corner of the room, a flash of bright colour._

_Shivvy bent down and picked up what appeared to be two playing cards. How odd she thought to find something of that sort here. When she turned the cards over, however, she saw that they were actually tarot cards. Her understanding of the tarot was very limited, but she knew the cards had been used by occultists and mystics for centuries as a means of divination. Shivvy wasn't sure she believed in the ability to predict the future based on a deck of playing cards._

_The first card she picked up was the Lovers card and depicted a man and woman dressed in Victorian fashion. The Man stood behind the woman with his arms encircling her waist, but what stood out to Shivvy, was the fact that both faces were blank, devoid of features. The young shadowhunter reached down to pick up the second of the two cards, and saw that it was the Devil card. He was also dressed in Victorian clothes, and stood with a howling wolf on his right side, and a chained woman on his left. As with the first card, both the Devil and the woman's faces were blank._

_Shivvy continued to stare at the cards in her hand, and slowly but surely the blank faces began to blur slightly and shift forming distinct features. The girl gave a startled gasp as the Lovers faces took the shape of herself and Daniel, and a horrified cry as the Devil's face solidified into a likeness of Gerard McKenzie, the chained woman on his left, another depiction of herself. Dropping the cards, as it they burned her hand, Shivvy ran toward the door, wanting nothing more than to get away from that haunted room, from things she could not understand, or explain. But, just as she was about to make good her exit, she stopped and took a deep, steadying breath. What would Ian say, if he saw her running away like a scared child, probably something insulting about her having vapours! With a renewed sense of purpose, Shivvy turned back and scooped up the cards, tucking them safely in her pocket. She would get to the bottom of things, if it was the last thing she did._

_Glancing behind her as she sprinted down the hallway, she didn't see the tall, well built man in front of her until she ran right into him. "Huh;" Shivvy gasped as she stumbled backward, only avoiding the embarrassment of a complete collapse because of the strong arms that grabbed her shoulders._

_"Noo jist haud on!" Aidan Briosag lapsed into Gaelic as his dancing, gray-green eyes looked into Shivvy's, and he held her at arm's length. If the warlock noticed the remnants of distress on her face, he made no comment, saying only; "You've grown into a bonny lass Shivvy McRae!"_

_"Aidan, I can't believe it!" Shivvy cried, forgetting her recent fear in the pleasure of meeting an old friend. Before she could say more, however, the cold, stern voice of Gerard McKenzie interrupted her._

_"Shivaun! You should be in the training room, High Warlock Briosag and I have business to discuss!"_

_Aidan winked at Shivvy and whispered in her ear; " Meet me at six in front of the Institute and we'll go for dinner." She nodded her head in response and saw the warlock smile as he turned back toward his host._

_"High Warlock Briosag, this way if you please;" McKenzie said brusquely and Shivvy thought she caught a flash of anger on the shadowhunter's face as he led his guest into a vacant conference room. Though things had improved greatly between the Edinburgh downworld and the shadowhunters, in the intervening years since Alec's visit, Shivvy doubted there would ever be true understanding and trust between them. Years of abuse could not be erased that easily._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Edinburgh......_

_Shivvy hurried down the Royal Mile, glad to be out of the Institute, away from the critical eye of Gerard McKenzie, and the sullen, chauvinistic presence of his son Addison. It was nearly six o'clock and she was meeting High Warlock Aidan Briosag for dinner. Tomorrow she would board the train to East Linton._

_Home, she thought, but with her father dead, and Ian in Idris, it wasn't much of a homecoming. Shivvy had always been a daddy's girl, wanting to train with her brother, not stay home and acquire the social graces her mother thought so important. It had taken a great deal of persuading to get her mother to allow her to go to New York with Ian. She suspected it was her mother's desire to put as much distance as possible between her children and the scandal at the Edinburgh Institute that had made it possible._

_The sudden appearance of Aidan Briosag beside the Witches' Well broke Shivvy's reverie, and she threw herself into his arms._

_"Easy girl!" The High Warlock laughed as he twirled her around. "My God! You've grown into a bonny lass!"_

_"Oh Aidan, you're the first sight of home that's given me any pleasure at all." Shivvy stated with all the certainty of youth._

_"Come on, you can tell me all about it over dinner. There's nothing that a good meal and sympathetic ear can't cure;" The High Warlock stated as he led the way into the Edinburgh underground. Although relations had improved between shadowhunters and the downworld, many of Aidan's people still preferred to live apart, not yet trusting the new Accords._

_Shivvy loved the lively feel of this unique place, colourful shops lined both sides of a great tunnel that served as the High Street. As they passed, the girl couldn't help being enthralled by the odd and unusual artifacts lining the shop shelves. Beautiful blown glass bottles containing all manner of creams and potions, sat next to dusty leather bound books, and racks of brightly coloured clothing that enticed shoppers to tarry. But it was the people themselves that attracted Shivvy most of all. Downworlders in all their variety, fairy, vampire, warlock and werewolf rubbed shoulders here in a way that was almost unheard of anywhere else. She knew it was because of the terrible way they'd been hunted by the Scottish shadowhunters, but the resulting society was rich with diversity, and Shivvy loved it. Her feelings were tempered, however, by a sense of shame for what had happened, though she was far too young to bare any direct responsibility._

_At last they arrived at the Cauldron pub, and were shown to small table near the great stone fireplace where a magic, smokeless flame burned brightly. Once their orders were placed, Aidan turned a thoughtful eye on the girl and asked; "So, what's the trouble, Shivvy my love. Tell your uncle Aidan all about it."_

_The High Warlock of Edinburgh had stayed in touch with Magnus after the trouble at the Scottish Institute, and visited New York on more than one occasion. He'd always made time for Shivvy during those visits, and she felt she could tell him anything. Close as she was to Ian, he was still her brother, and might not take her problems as seriously as she did. Aidan, however, never laughed or made her feel foolish, he just listened, gave her advice, if she asked, and helped her figure things out. Still, she hesitated, not really knowing where to start._

_"I didn't really want to come here..." The girl began, until she saw Aidan raise an eyebrow. "No! No, I don't mean here, I love it here, I mean the Institute and East Linton. It sounds awful when I say it out loud, I want to see my mum, I do, but she has this idea that it time I started thinking about settling down..."_

_"Ahh, I think I see the way this wind blows. You and your mum are never going to see eye-to-eye about you becoming an active shadowhunter, or about Daniel." Aidan said thoughtfully._

_"I guess it's no big secret how I feel about him;" Shivvy replied softly, a light blush dusting her cheeks._

_"No, not really, and you may be able to avoid the issues on this visit, but eventually you will have to talk to your mum, tell her how you feel...."_

_"She'll never understand!" Shivvy huffed, letting her frustration get the better of her, even though she knew Aidan was right._

_"Maybe not;" Aidan replied. "And, if she doesn't it won't be easy to deal with, but being an adult means doing difficult things, and having the courage of your convictions. You already know this Shivvy, so what else is troubling you?" Aidan sat back, waiting for the girl to gather her thoughts._

_Shivvy took a deep breath and began; "Remember last time you were in New York, I told you that several people in my family, including me, have the second sight? Thanks for not laughing over that by the way..."_

_Aidan interrupted the girl saying; " Shivvy, I would never make fun of something like second sight. I have known and trusted people whose gifts were amazingly accurate, and not to be taken lightly."_

_Shivvy gave the High Warlock a grateful smile, before continuing to tell Aidan about encountering the ghost of Gellie Duncan at the Witches Well, and the spirit's insistence that the 'hysteria' would come again._

_"A disturbing portent indeed;" Aidan said solemnly as the girl finished her story. "I would not like to think fear and bigotry could again cause us to attack the most vulnerable members of our society. Thank you for sharing this with me, I will certainly be on my guard."_

_Shivvy knew Aidan took his responsibilities as High Warlock very seriously, and it comforted her that he would stand against any such irrational persecution. The time had come, however, for her to tell him about the unsettling experience at the Institute. So without further delay, Shivvy removed the two tarot cards from her pocket, and placed them face up on the table._

_"The Devil's tarot...." Aidan whispered shocked beyond measure by what he was seeing. "Where did you get these cursed things, Shivaun?_

_"I-I found them on the floor in the trophy room;" She stammered. "Why did you call them the Devil's tarot?_

_"These cards are part of an illicit deck. They are enchanted, dangerous, and according to both the Clave and the Coven, illegal to own;" Aidan paused for a moment as he gingerly picked up the cards and turned them face down. "Did you see anything when you handled them Shivvy?" He asked gently, knowing he had probably already alarmed the girl._

_Nodding her head, Shivvy proceeded to tell the High Warlock about seeing her own and Daniel's features on the lovers card, and Gerard McKenzie and herself on the devil card. She'd assumed that the affect was due either to her second sight, or her overactive imagination. The encounter with Gellie Duncan at the Witches Well had rattled her more than she liked to admit, and the trophy room still sent shivers up her spine. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Shivvy asked; "What does it mean Aidan?"_

_The High Warlock looked seriously at the girl, taking some time to gather his thoughts before he replied; "As I mentioned, the Devil's tarot is an enchanted deck. The dealer requires no special gift for divination, the gift is in the cards. All the face cards are initially blank and take their features from the person who is having the reading done. It is said that in the wrong hands, the future itself can be manipulated;"_

_"So what do the two cards I found mean, was it my future that was being read?"_

_"I'm no expert at interpreting tarot cards, Shivvy, but the lovers card points to a romantic partnership, and considering it showed you and Daniel I think it's pretty accurate. The Devil card, though is more problematic, it indicates bondage. That could be internal bondage, where you feel trapped by your own feelings, or physical bondage where you are being forcibly restrained. There isn't really enough here to go on, but I would be very, very careful if I were you." Aidan looked at the girl, concern clearly expressed on his handsome face. He would have loved nothing better than to wrap her up in cotton wool and protect her from all the world's hurts, but she was a shadowhunter, a warrior, and all he could do was hope that whatever fate had in store for her, he would be there help_

_Shivvy smiled gratefully glad that she had at least one friend in Edinburgh she could count on...._

The feeling of the train beginning to slow brought Shivvy back to a sense of her present surroundings. In a few more minutes she would be at the station and then just a short car ride from home. She had not been able to shake the uneasy feeling that had taken root during her stay in Edinburgh, in fact it had only seemed to increase the closer she got to the McCrae farm.


	6. Chapter 6

Gerard McKenzie paced the floor of his office at the Edinburgh Institute. It was a cold, imposing room with slate gray walls, high ceilings and dark wood floors. A great carved desk dominated the center of the space, and on the wall behind it hung a portrait of Raziel holding a flaming sword, grounded by a massive wooden credenza. Everything about this room spoke of a sense of power and importance. It was designed to impress and intimidate. 

Last evening's entertainment of the Hellfire Club in the trophy room had gone very well, though Gerard was always more relaxed when they met away from the Edinburgh Institute. He'd managed to find a very skilled tarot reader as part of the night's activities. Several of the more prestigious members had been impressed. Gerard, as newly elected Abbot, felt a strong desire to make his mark, and this was a good beginning.

Sitting down at his desk, the head of the Institute glanced at the clock, Shivaun McRae would be arriving in East Linton soon, and he needed to clarify his intentions toward the girl. Originally he'd considered her only as a possible match for Addison, but perhaps that was being just a bit short sighted. After all, he was still a relatively young man, still in his prime. Having more children of his own was a far better plan than waiting for grandchildren from Addison. He frowned as the thought about the boy, too much like his mother, weak, sensitive. Gerard pulled a small key from his breast pocket and unlocked one of the desk drawers. His fingers brushed the contents until they found what they were searching for, a small rectangular box of cards, the Devil's tarot. It had been some time since he had done a reading. McKenzie enjoyed his vices thoroughly, but he was a careful man and knew it wasn't wise to play with powerful toys indiscriminately. He'd educated himself thoroughly before using the Devil's tarot. 

Carefully removing the cards from their box, Gerard thought about the large elaborate deck the taro reader had used last evening. His was much smaller, plainer, but they served the purpose. He remembered the first time he'd done his own reading, Gerard had been newly married to Lucy Addison then, and wanted assurance that their union would result in a son to carry on the McKenzie name. He had been delighted to turn up the sun card and see the image of a male child astride a white horse. 

The years after had been less, and less satisfactory, his hopes dashed as the three of swords indicated miscarriage after miscarriage for the couple. Eventually he'd been forced to acknowledge his union with Lucy Addison had outlived its usefulness, and he had plotted to get rid of her. Divorce, was not an option. Lucy came from a prominent shadowhunter family and had given him no grounds. Grudgingly he had to admit she was the perfect wife in many ways, attractive, deferential, and obedient, but still he hungered for someone exciting, an equal who would give him more children to secure his legacy.

It had been easy really, a few month of making sure that everyone knew how happy his marriage to Lucy was, then a tragic accident that left him a young widower. Using the Devil's tarot to influence his wife's future had been a stroke of genius. The most difficult part was making sure he had the precise method to activate the cards, one misstep and he could have shortened his own life, instead of Lucy's! The great advantage, of the tarot, however, was that no one would ever know that he'd had a hand in her demise. A reasonable period of mourning was now at an end, and it was time for Gerard to move forward with his plans for the future, plans he now believed included Shivaun McRae.

McKenzie rose from his chair and went to lock the office door, he did not want to be interrupted while he used the Devil's tarot. Pulling the heavy drapes closed, he also took the time to light some candles and add a log to the fire that burned fitfully in the large stone fireplace. Once the shadowhunter was satisfied, he returned to his chair and began to shuffle the cards before dealing a five card spread.

As Gerard turned the cards over, he saw the knight of cups reversed. So, there was a rival for Shivaun's affections, he thought frowning. He picked up the card and waited until the knight's blank face resolved into the features of Daniel LaCroix, a young vampire that now lived with the New York clan at the Hotel Dumort. McKenzie knew very little about the boy, but didn't think he would prove too difficult an obstacle. The girl's mother would never allow such a match. Gerard replaced the card on the desk. He then picked up the chariot reversed which indicated two opposing forces locked in conflict, neither willing to back down. A slow smile spread across the man's lips, though it did not reach his eyes. He found himself enjoying the idea of mastering a headstrong girl, and believed himself more than a match for her.

McKenzie picked up the cards and prepared to do another reading, this time on Shivaun. Hopefully the tarot would provide him the means to manipulate the situation and ensure his success. He quickly dealt another five card spread, turning each card over slowly, he did not want to rush the process. At last all the cards were visible to him. Gerard reached out and picked up the lovers card, waiting for the blank faces to resolve. Slowly the features formed and he saw Ian McRae and Josh Cameron. A soft, mirthless chuckle broke the silence of the room. This was better than he could have hoped, Shivaun McRae had a secret, and what an explosive secret it was! 

To the ultra-conservative members of the Clave a relationship between two male shadowhunters would been bad enough, but Josh and Ian were parabatai and a romantic relationship between them was strictly forbidden. The two were currently on course in Idris, Gerard would contact his old friend, and fellow club member, Isaiah Blackwell, McKenzie would need proof of this illicit connection if his plan was to succeed. 

Two minor impediments to his plans and both could be handled easily without risking the Devil's tarot. All things considered, Gerard was pleased, very pleased. Scooping up the cards he locked them back up in the desk drawer. It wouldn't do to leave them lying around in plain sight.


	7. Chapter 7

With trembling hands Janus Dark took the book from his dead friend. He felt some sadness for the loss of Xavier Malum, but most of all he felt fear, and more than that, a heartfelt wish he'd never gotten involved with the Curatio Daemonium Insanitas, or the Hellfire Club. Whatever it was Xavier had left him in this book, he prayed it would be enough to prevent the Abbot and his brutes from attacking him, as they'd done Malum. Without further delay, Janus got to his feet and opened a portal to his potion shop in New York. The wards that would have prevented him from doing so had collapsed with Xavier's death. He didn't think he could have faced another trip to the Witch Trial Memorial. This whole evening had been a disaster of the worst magnitude as far as Dark was concerned.

Arriving back at the shop, Janus Dark closed the blinds and doubled the wards before sitting down in an arnchair by the fire with a snifter of brandy. The potion maker's hands trembled slightly as he opened the small, leather-bound volume Xavier Malum had given him, only to gasp in surprise when he saw that the pages were blank. Was this some kind of joke? What kind of person plays a joke on their deathbed Dark thought aggravated at such an unsatisfying end to a very trying night. 

Just as he was about to throw the book down on the table and head off to bed, words in a unique, spidery hand began to form on the page as though some phantom pen were being scraped over the parchment. Fascinated, Janus Dark watched as page after page began to fill with words. When the writing ceased, the pages of the book flipped back to the start, and the potion maker began to read..... 

_My Dear Janus,_

_If you are reading this, then I am dead and it is time you learned the true nature of the ingredient I provide you for the Curatio. I'm sure you must have suspected it is my blood, dried to powder, that I've been sending you, which means the Curatio is in essence a blood magic potion. I always believed it would require something of that sort to control a demonic sickness, but I digress. There is nothing else unusual in the ingredients, but that does not mean the blood of any warlock will do, in order for you to understand this, I will have to start at the beginning, and I apologize, in advance, for the length of time it takes....._

_I was born Timothy Xavier Whitelaw, the only son of a shadowhunter, Alexandra Whitelaw, and father unknown; but of course, that was just what the official records said. The truth was much stranger, my 'unknown' father was the warlock, Chance Malum. Oh, I know what you will say, warlocks are sterile and can't father children; but is that strictly true? I have found over the many years of my long life that what nature can't accomplish, magic often can._

_My parents relationship was unusual to say the least, especially given the times they lived in. Shadowhunters were suspicious of warlocks and often viewed them with hatred and distrust, even when they needed something from them. But, the heart wants what the heart wants, and these two, from very different worlds, fell in love and were secretly married. They knew they were playing a dangerous game, the Clave would certainly have stripped Alexandra of her marks, and probably killed Chance if they found out._

_As time went on and their relationship remained secret, the two lovers yearned for a child, and Chance began searching for a way to make it happen. He found the answer he was looking for in a very old, very rare spell book. It took time to translate the old text and collect the necessary ingredients for the spell, but at last their plans were in place and Chance performed the magic._

_It was an enormous risk, of course. It would be more difficult than ever to keep their secret. Alexandra did her best to conceal the pregnancy, wearing loose fitting clothing and attending as few Clave functions as she could. As with many risky plans, however, it only took one unexpected event to expose the secret. Near the end of her term, a slip on the stairs sent Alexandra into premature labour. The shocked Whitelaw family called immediately for a midwife who delivered the girl of a healthy baby boy, with light mauve scales on the back of his neck and around his wrists and ankles._

_Walter Whitelaw, Alexandra's father was horrified and demanded to know what his daughter had done. She refused to say a word and Walter sent for the Inquisitor. The baby was given to the midwife who was told to dispose of it. Alexandra was taken to the guard and interrogated by the Inquisitor for days until she finally broke and told him everything._

_The Clave sent several shadowhunters to kill Chance Malum, and confiscate the spell book he used to create the pregnancy. The idea that a warlock could use magic to procreate terrified them. With Malum dead, and the spell book safely stored in the Silent Brother's monastery, the Inquisitor arranged to have Alexandra stripped of her marks. Exhausted by her interrogation and grieving the loss of her baby and death of her husband, Alexandra did not survive the ordeal._

_Despite the best efforts of the Clave to hush the story up, rumours circulated about a spell that would allow a warlock to have a child. In order to try and dissuade any downworlders from attempting to find the spell, the Clave spun the story that a baby born in such a manner would be a soulless abomination, a monster, and perhaps they truly believed it._

_The Clave thought that the midwife who had been instructed to dispose of the child had drowned me, and so in a final desperate act to bury the truth, they had her killed. What they did not realize, of course, was that she had sold me to a warlock couple who wanted a child. I don't believe she lived long enough to enjoy the money she'd been given for her part in this sordid story._

_I grew up, became an apprentice and was finally able to earn a good living as a potion maker, all the while knowing nothing of my own true history. I might still be living in blissful ignorance if I hadn't, like you my dear Janus, developed an interest in finding a cure for demon pox. I read everything I could find on the disease, its symptoms and the earlier cures that had been attempted. I quickly concluded that the approach most likely to be effective would be a blood magic potion and set about to test this theory._

_By this time I was doing well enough to have several apprentices who were just as interested as I in the experiment, and were willing to let me use small samples of their blood in my experiments. Nothing I made however was any more effective than the best of the old cures, slowing the onset of the symptoms but not truly controlling them or curing the disease. Late one evening, I was becoming very discouraged and thought I would give up the search for a cure if my next attempt should no greater promise that its predecessors. I went to the cupboard to get some dried blood only to discover that my stock had all been used up. Rather than wait until morning when my apprentices returned, I took a small sample of my own blood._

_The results were better than I'd dared to hope and I was ecstatic. It didn't take long, however, for my enthusiasm to turn to frustration as I tried to recreate the potion over the next several days using blood drawn from my apprentices. It seemed I could not duplicate the efficacy of my original, late night potion. I was beyond aggravated, and ready to turn my back on the whole endeavour, when it occurred to me that the only variable had been the blood I used, though why that should matter escaped me._

_When I used my own blood, the potion was just as effective as I could wish, but that left me with a mystery I wanted to get to the bottom of. What was it about my blood that made it more potent than the apprentices? I began to analyze my blood and research my own past. It took years, but at last I knew the truth, I was the product, through magic,of a marked shadowhunter and a warlock. I was the original, the abomination that the Clave warned of. There weren't any others like me, and with my death the Curatio Daemonium Insanitas can no longer be made. I have sent a message to the Abbot of the Hellfire Club explaining this, so you should be safe from them my old friend..._

Janus Dark dropped the book as he started up from the chair, because Xavier Malum had been wrong! He wasn't the only magically born child of a marked shadowhunter and a warlock. Another had been so born, to the High Warlock of Brooklyn and his shadowhunter husband. Never had he thought, when Magnus came to his shop three years ago, that he would become privy to such a potentially explosive secret. If the Hellfire Club found out about the child, he didn't like to think what might happen. He must warn the High Warlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone, here is an extra chapter to say thank you for all the support you have given me. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday.


	8. Chapter 8

Magnus woke unexpectedly early that morning and, looking back on it later, he couldn't say just why he felt so unsettled. The warlock could remember no bad dream, no unresolved issue with Alec, or a client to account for it, but after several minutes of trying to calm himself by watching his lover sleep peacefully beside him, he gave up, and decided to put some coffee on. If he couldn't take advantage of a quiet, restful morning himself, he would make sure that Alec had some extra sleep and a fresh coffee to wake up to.

The kitchen was still dark and quiet when Magnus entered. He snapped his fingers to turn the lights on and start a cheerful fire blazing on the hearth. Chairman Meow circled his legs, brushing up against the warlock and purring loudly. Magnus laughed. "I know what you want!" He declared taking the cat food and a bowl from the cupboard. It only took a few minutes for Magnus to address the cat's basic needs. He never used magic for this, unless it was an emergency, Chairman Meow was skittish about magic, and Magnus respected his prejudices. 

Once the cat was dealt with, Magnus set about making coffee, again he did not use magic, knowing that at any minute the housekeeper could come bustling in, and she was nonplussed by displays of that sort. Once the coffee was ready he prepared two cups, one for himself with all the fixings, and a black with sugar for Alec. Smiling to himself as he walked back to their private quarters, Magnus thought about his strong, quiet husband and wondered, not for the first time, how he'd gotten so lucky. Magnus had been in love before, but with Alec it was all different and new somehow. He felt secure in this relationship, and that was a blessing he would never take for granted.

Entering the bedroom, Magnus placed both cups on the bedside table before bending down to kiss Alec gently on the lips. "Wake up sleepy head;" He said gently as Alec's beautiful blue eyes fluttered open. 

Alec slowly pushed himself up so he could drink the coffee Magnus had brought. "I could get used to you spoiling me like this;" Alec said as he took his first sip of the hot beverage. "What are your plans for the day?"

"I don't have any clients until this afternoon; "Magnus replied with a soft smile; "So I promised to make portals with Aiden in the work room."

"Portals!" Alec said with a look of mild concern.

"Nothing more dangerous than large pieces of paper, finger paints, and imaginary destinations, I promise;" Magnus chuckled seeing his husband's face relax into a soft smile. "You'd better get moving before Jace starts pounding on the door because you're late for training."

Alec pulled Magnus into his arms and kissed him soundly. "Jace can wait, this can't;" He replied capturing Magnus lips again in an even more passionate kiss. It was Aiden calling for them that finally broke the two apart, and Magnus went to get his son ready for the day, as Alec headed off to have a shower.

Several hours, and one training session later, Alec went to his office, there was paperwork to be done. Although he tried to stay on top of it, the administrative work of running the Institute had a nasty habit of piling up. The phone on his desk began to ring just as Alec entered the room, and he knew, even before answering, that it would be Jia Penhallow. The Consul seemed as familiar with his schedule as Alec was himself, he thought ruefully as he picked up the call.

"Alec, glad I caught you;" Jia said briskly. "There are some issues I think we should discuss in person, could you come to Idris this afternoon?"

"Ahh... y-yes that shouldn't be a problem. I'll ask Magnus to open a portal and be there in a couple of hours, if that would suit;" Alec responded a look of concern flashing across his face.

"That's fine, I'll talk to you then;" Jia said ringing off before Alec had a chance to ask her anything at all about the subject of their meeting.

Alec heaved a sigh and prayed that it was nothing to do with Aiden. Magnus and he had done everything they could to hide the true origins of their precious child, telling the Clave that the boy was an orphaned warlock child they'd adopted. There was only one other record of a child being born of a warlock and marked shadowhunter and it was a cautionary tale. The warlock had been hunted down and killed, the shadowhunter stripped of her marks, and worst of all, the baby was said to be an abomination. Alec assumed the child had also been killed and his heart ceased at the thought. 

Alec knew his sweet Aiden was not an abomination, but the last thing he wanted to do was trust that the Clave had progressed beyond such narrow minded, bigoted behaviour. All he could do for now, was pray his secret was still safe, and that Jia wanted to speak with him about something else entirely, but what? That question brought his mind to Josh and Ian. Alec had suspected for some time the two had romantic feelings for each other, but he chose not to confront them, perhaps because there had been a time, before Magnus, when he'd believed he was in love with Jace.

The Clave's rules were strict regarding parabatai forming romantic attachments with each other. He knew Josh and Ian were aware of that, and hoped they'd been discreet while in Idris for their training. The boys were family and he did not want that kind of grief for them. Alec shook his head slightly, trying to clear away all these concerns, there was no point in borrowing trouble, until he knew what it was Jia wanted to discuss. With a last look at the paperwork on his desk, Alec left the office in search of Magnus. He wished he could take Aiden's paper portal, with its swirling design in all the colours of the rainbow, to an child's imaginary place, rather than Magnus swirling blue portal to Idris. 

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Ian McRae stood off to the side of the training room with his parabatai, Josh Cameron. They had been in Idris for a week now, and he was counting the hours until they could head back home. He wondered idly when he'd first started to think of the New York Institute as home? Both he and Josh had looked forward to this training course with great excitement, and now it couldn't end too soon for his liking.

Just then, the Instructor, Isaiah Blackwell, entered the room and cast a critical eye over all the trainees, especially Josh, who he seemed to take great pleasure in disparaging. It made Ian's blood boil, and several times over the last few days, Josh had had to stop Ian from losing his cool. On one memorable occasion, Blackwell's caustic comments pushed Josh into a reckless, unnecessarily risky manoeuvre. It had taken all Ian's strength to prevent a nasty accident, and he'd turned on Blackwell, face dark with fury. Several of the other trainees restrained Ian, but whatever Blackwell had seen in the boy's eyes, caused the Instructor to smile, though he refrained from bating Josh any further that day. 

This morning, they were barely into their first exercise when the harassment began again. Nothing Josh did was good enough, and though most in the room couldn't see any flaws in his technique, they were heartily glad not to be the focus of the Blackwell's ire themselves. Josh maintained his quiet, stoic demeanor, but Ian could tell that the constant criticism was beginning to get to him. Ian wondered what the instructor hoped to achieve with his constant abuse of Josh? Was he trying to break him? Surely this wasn't what they had come all the way to Idris for? 

Ian and Josh were about to begin the latest paired manoeuvre when Jia Penhallow entered the room and called Blackwell to her. A few moments of whispered conversation followed after which Blackwell dismissed the trainees for the day, and followed the Consul out of the room.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Ian clapped Josh on the back; "Don't have to tell me twice to get out of here, come on let's go to one of the cafes in Angel Square!" Josh nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, although Ian noticed sadly it did not reach his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Magnus allowed the housekeeper to scoop Aiden up and take him to the dining room for lunch before he looked at the newly arrived fire message. Alec had left for Idris and Magnus knew he'd been on edge about whatever it was Jia wanted. The warlock hadn't expressed his own unease though, knowing it wouldn't help calm Alec's nerves. A look of surprise crossed Magnus face as he saw the note in his hand came from the potion maker, Janus Dark, and it sounded urgent. What could Dark possibly need to see him for that was so important, a bad shipment of hemlock?

Heaving a sigh, Magnus went to the dining room to make sure the housekeeper would mind Aiden until his return, or Izzy got back from patrol. He had promised to take the boy to the park after lunch, and he hated to disappoint his son. After a brief conversation it was agreed that if Magnus was not back by 2:00 pm, the housekeeper would take Aiden to the park, and Magnus would join them there as soon as he was free. 

Heavily glamoured Magnus reached the blind alley that led to the Mortar & Pestle Potion Dispensary, and still, he could not shake the feeling of being watched. A sudden chill ran up his spine as he sensed the ruins of Janus' wards. Whoever had been here before Magnus, they didn't wait for an invitation. 

Cautiously approaching the heavy wooden door of the shop, Magnus stopped, and listened for sounds of conflict or struggle. The silence was overwhelming. What was he walking into? Had Janus been hurt? Magnus allowed his prodigious magical power to crackle around him, he was a father, and husband, he would not take foolish risks. 

Pushing open the heavy wooden door of the shop, Magnus saw the remains of a portal, the unmistakable, swirling magic just beginning to dissipate. Looking around him quickly, the High Warlock took in the signs of violence in the broken crockery on the floor, the papers and books scattered about, and most alarmingly of all, the bloody body of Janus Dark slumped in the far corner of the room. Who ever had been here meant business, and although he and Janus Dark had never been close, Nobody did violence like this on the High Warlock of Brooklyn's patch, unless they answered to Magnus for their crimes.

Moving quickly to Janus' side, Magnus checked his vital signs, relieved to find the potion maker still on the living side of the equation. What on earth had Janus got himself into, Magnus wondered as his magic shot out, and he began to heal the wounds on Dark's body. The shop looked to have been thoroughly ransacked, broken glass and dead birds littered the old oak floor. It wasn't like Janus Dark to involve himself in anything illicit, or dangerous, none of this made sense to Magnus.

It took about an hour before the potion maker had received enough healing magic to begin coming round. Magnus carefully helped him into a sitting position and handed him a glass of brandy from the bottle he'd found behind the shop counter. Luckily it had survived the general destruction. Janus' hands shook as he took the glass, drinking deeply before giving it back to Magnus. 

Placing a hand on the man's shoulder, Magnus asked; "What the hell happened here Janus?"

"M-Magnus, H-high Warlock.... oh God!" Dark spluttered, trying unsuccessfully to make sense of the fact that the man he had just betrayed, was trying to help him.

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Alec stepped out of the portal landing gracefully, on his feet. Years of practice had, at last, taught him not to stumble, but he still found the experience disorienting and unpleasant. Standing near the portal waiting for him was Jia Penhallow's aid, Roderick Starkweather. 

"Welcome, Alexander Lightwood;" Starkweather said rather stiffly. "The Consul asked me to escort you to her office as soon as you arrived."

Alec nodded, too lost in his own concerns to engage the man in further conversation. He wished he knew what it was the Consul wanted to speak with him about, but he had no intention of asking his guide for information. Alec followed Starkweather silently through the old stone corridors until they came to an elaborately carved wooden door.  
Wrapping lightly, Consul's aid waited patiently until he heard 'Enter' before ushering Alec into the office. Jia Penhallow rose from her desk, and came around to greet Alec with a warm hug. It was well known in Alicante, that the Lightwoods and Penhallows were old friends. A slight frown crossed Starkweather's face as he watched the proceedings, the Abbot would not be pleased, if this meeting continued in such a cordial manner.

Just then, Jia caught sight of her aid, and letting go of Alec, said; "That will be all Roderick, I'll call you if I need anything else." Her voice was cold and authoritative stopping the younger man dead in his tracks, just as he was about to opened his mouth in protest. Turning abruptly, Startweather stalked out of the room, although his courage did not extend to slamming the door behind him. He had so counted on bearing witness to this meeting, hoping to watch the Consul put Lightwood in his place, a fag had no business being head of the New York Institute. He would go and talk to Isaiah, Blackwell would know what to do.

Jia indicated that Alec should take a seat in one of the comfortable arm chairs situated around the fireplace at the opposite end of the office. It was a less formal area, designed for quiet conversation, and Alec appreciated Jia's efforts to put him at ease.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here Alec, and before we get into it, I'd just like to say that I don't believe there is anything wrong, but I would be remiss if I didn't at least look into it." Jia began. Looking increasingly uncomfortable, she continued; "Do you know of any inappropriate relationship existing between Josh Cameron and Ian McRae?"

"No." Alec said sharply. "What is this all about?

"As I said, I don't think it is anything to worry about, but trainer Blackwell said he felt there might be a romantic relationship between the two, and you know that is strictly forbidden." Jia said, sounding almost apologetic.

"Blackwell 'feels' there is something wrong!" Alec said sarcastically; "Tell me would this even have come up, if I wasn't the openly gay head of the New York Institute? If Blackwell has proof, let him present it, otherwise he's just blowing smoke." 

Jia had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed by the situation. "I'm sorry Alec, I know it isn't fair, but it will take time for old prejudices to be replaced by more inclusive, tolerant attitudes. I don't believe that Trainer Blackwell has any actual proof of wrong doing, and as long as that is true, I will not allow him to force a trial by Mortal Sword."

Alec was momentarily stunned. The Mortal Sword was used to compel shadowhunters to tell the truth. If there was a romantic relationship between Ian and Josh, it would be exposed and the consequences... he didn't want to think about that for either of them.

Despite the turmoil going on in Alec's heart and mind, his face remained stoic. The days when he wore his heart on his sleeve, and every deeply held thought or feeling could be read in his expressive, intense blue eyes were over. He still felt things as keenly as ever, but he had learned to discipline his features, save his emotions for those he truly loved and trusted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everybody!


	10. Chapter 10

Shivvy set a brisk pace as she walked away from the old stone farm house, it was early evening, and the cool breeze felt good on her flushed face. She didn't know how much more of her mother's constant barrage of 'you must show yourself off to the best advantage', 'you're a very pretty girl when you don't slouch', or, her personal favourite, 'it's so important for our family that you marry well' she could stand.. Today had been much the same as every other day since her return home, a tedious round of social engagements designed to let the shadowhunter community know that Shivaun McRae was now on the marriage market. How humiliating!

At the end of the driveway, Shivvy turned away from the picturesque village of East Linton and headed toward the open countryside. The last thing she needed was people staring at her, whispering about her 'American' ways and accent. Her mother had been against her going to the New York Institute, but Shivvy's father had been adamant. Albert McRae wanted both his children trained to be the best shadowhunters they could be, and he also knew his son Ian would pay an unfair price for being Josh Cameron's parabatai, if he remained in Edinburgh. It was that argument which finally won Shivvy's mother over, and resulted in what the girl felt were the best years of her young life. If she hadn't become part of the New York Institute, she would never have gotten to know Daniel!

Shivvy followed the country lane until she came to a path that wound its way through a pretty wooded area. As she walked, her thoughts turned to Daniel LaCroix, the young vampire who'd help them defeat Magnus's evil half sister, Lucia, three years ago. His handsome, sensitive face came swirling into her mind and she smiled, a genuine expression that reached her eyes and made them sparkle. If her father had been there, he would have known, without a word, what Daniel meant to her.... but her father had died, suddenly, unexpectedly, while he was out hunting demons. Ave atque vale, hail and farewell Albert McRae, and Shivvy's life had changed forever. She lost her staunchest supporter, the one person, other than Ian, she felt saw her as she truly was, at least until she'd met Daniel. 

Now, surrounded by the trappings of her early childhood, and at her wits end with her mother's less than subtle attempts to marry her off to an 'appropriate' shadowhunter, she longed to be back in New York, and was more afraid than ever she would be prevented from returning. 

Shivvy's mother, Corrinne McRae had informed her that evening they were expected at Eilean Donan, the ancestral home of the McKenzie's for the weekend. Oh joy, a whole weekend with the sullen, Addison and his slimy farther Gerard. She'd not forgotten the angry, possessive glance he'd given her when she returned from dinner with the High Warlock of Edinburgh, Aidan Briosag. That dinner had been the highlight of her trip to Edinburgh, those few hours at the Cauldron Pub, though she had quickly learned not to speak of it at home. Her mother considered any time spent with the notorious High Warlock a very questionable lapse in judgement on her daughter's part. 

As night began to fall, and the air became cooler, a shimmering mist rose from the ground, creeping and swirling around Shivvy's feet. The path in front of her was shrouded in fog, and she was about to retrace her steps when she noticed an old, abandoned graveyard to her left. She assumed that there must have been a church nearby at some point, but it was long since gone, not even ruins left to mark its passing.   
Shivvy turned toward the graveyard, she had always been intrigued by the brief stories old stones had to tell of lives long since past. They drew her in, touching her with their poignancy. 

Moving past the crumbling stone wall that separated the consecrated ground of the graveyard from the lane, Shivvy began reading the stones. It was only when the fog became too dense for her to make out the words that she looked up to see strange, pitiful shapes forming out of the mist. A ragged line of women and men shuffled past her moaning in pain and despair. Bodies broken by torture, they seemed to move slowly toward a ghostly pyre that engulfed each in turn. Witches, Shivvy thought and Gellie Duncan's anguished words came back to her; "I took many others with me to the pyre, men and women both. They were innocent! Innocent! It will come again the hysteria...."

A shiver ran down Shivvy's spine as the vision faded away. Then, out of the corner of her eye, in the darkest shadows of the cemetery, Shivvy saw a solitary figure. Her family had always believed in the 'second sight'; those who could see more than the here and now. The past, ghosts, and even the future were open to them, and she counted herself among the? Blessed? Cursed? Who knew. Suddenly, the figure rose from the grave stone and began to move towards her. She pulled a seraph blade from the scabbard on her back, and whispered 'Gabriel'. The sword blazed into life, its light exposing the area around her and dispelling both the shadows and the mist. The girl knew the blade would be useless if this was another ghost or vision, but there was a sense of comfort in feeling the weight of it in her hand.

"Shivvy;" said a soft, familiar voice.

"Daniel! What are you doing here?" The girl said, dousing the blade and throwing her arms around the tall, pale boy who stood before her.

A small, gentle smile flitted across Daniel's lips as he pulled Shivvy tighter into his arms. "I missed you;" He whispered softly; "Magnus opened a portal for me, saying something about being sick and tired of seeing me moping around the Institute. I've been in the neighbourhood awhile hoping to run into you;" Daniel had no illusions about the welcome he'd receive if he had the nerve to knock on Shivvy's mother's door.

"I've missed you too;" Shivvy giggled. "If I have to hear one more word from my mother about making a good impression on the 'eligible' shadowhunters around here, I'll scream."

Daniel frowned, he didn't like to think about Shivvy being introduced to other boys, boys that would be a lot less complicated for her to date than he was. Seeing the look on his face, Shivvy pulled him down and kissed him, soft and sweet. "No one compares to you Daniel, they never could."

Daniel and Shivvy sat on an old stone bench near one of the more elaborate monuments, sheltered by the great trees that surrounded the lonely churchyard. They talked, laughed, hugged and kissed each other, just reveling in the chance to be together. Neither of them were naive enough to believe that the future for them, as a couple, would be smooth sailing. Shivvy was a shadowhunter with family traditions of strength, honour and service. She accepted that her vocation was to protect mundanes, battle demons and perhaps die young. 

Daniel was a mundane who had been kidnapped, turned against his will into a vampire, and left to find his own meaning, truth and agency in an undead life that flew in the face of every belief his family had taught him; and yet, the two of them had been drawn together and found in each other all that truly mattered. Where Shivvy went, he would follow, what fate held in store for them, they would share.

Shivvy told him of her mother's plan for her to go to the McKenzie ancestral home, Eilean Donan that weekend. Daniel promised he would follow her, bide his time in the countryside and hope to meet her as often as possible. It was the best they could do. 

"I wish we were back in New York;" Shivvy said snuggling into Daniel's side. "I used to hate Ian's over protective attitude, but I'd deal with that any day over this."

"Your brother loves you, and his concern does him credit." Daniel whispered softly in her ear. "I am so grateful you have someone that looks out for you. It's getting late, I will walk you back to your home."

"I wish we had more time." Shivvy said with a sigh. "But if I don't get back soon, mother will send someone to look for me, and I wouldn't want to cause you that kind of trouble. I'm so glad you're here."

The young lovers talked quietly, sharing their feelings and enjoying being together again. Daniel had his arm around Shivvy's shoulders, and time seemed to melt away. "I should walk you back before they do send out a search party';" He whispered softly.   
Reluctantly, the girl nodded as a slight shiver running down her spine. For the last few moments, Shivvy had had the strongest sense of being watched by hostile eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

Magnus with his heart racing, opened a portal to the park. It was all he could do not to destroy Janus Dark for betraying his son. Deep in his innermost soul, he knew it wasn't the potion maker's fault, not everyone was cut out to be a hero; but Aiden was innocent, helpless against the evil of this world, dependant on Alec and himself for protection, and the thought that he was now the target of powerful, desperate men terrified Magnus. 

Arriving at the park, Magnus headed for the playground at a run only to stop short when he saw the last, faint glimmer of portal magic disappearing and the mutilated body of the woman who had served the New York Institute for several years, and had come to be regarded as family. A scream of rage and fear tore from Magnus throat as he realized he was too late to stop his precious son from being taken, or help the woman in front of him. With enormous effort he collected himself, and sent a fire message to Izzy at the Institute. He could not afford the luxury of giving into his emotions now. Aiden needed to be found, and it almost overwhelmed him again when he thought about how frightened the little boy would be.

Magnus took a deep steadying breath and focused on summoning the spirit of the newly dead housekeeper. He had no doubt that she would move on quickly, unlike old Molly, the ghost he had sent Will Herondale to see in the Cross Bones Graveyard near London Bridge over a century ago. Magnus hated the idea of summoning the housekeeper only to force her to relive the traumatic manner of her death, but he desperately needed any information she could give him about who had taken Aiden. 

The warlock uttered a brief incantation and waited anxiously as a thin, wisp of mist began to swirl and collect into the rough shape of a woman. The most distinct feature was the face which wore such a terrified expression that it tore at Magnus' heart. If only he'd been able to save her, and his son.

"M-master Magnus, is that y-you?" the spirit asked in a quavering voice.

"Yes dear;" Magnus replied softly not wanting to do anything to startle her further. He needed to prompt her to talk about what happened. "I'm so sorry;" He began....

"Don't..." She interrupted him. "They came up behind us and grabbed Aiden before I could stop them. There were three men. I didn't recognize any of them, but one was a warlock. He started to open a portal, and his magic was a dark orange colour. The one, who was holding me, prevented me from screaming. I didn't see his face, but I know he was a shadowhunter, I could see the runes on his arms."

If Magnus was surprised by what the housekeeper told him, he didn't let it show; "And the third man? The one that had Aiden?" Magnus prompted.

The ghost seemed to shudder at that memory and begin to lose the already tentative grasp she had on her spectral form. Magnus held his breath praying he would get some information before she disappeared entirely.

The voice that answered him was barely above a whisper; "He was very tall, his eyes were consumed by fire and...." The ghost seemed to falter at this point, as if the memory of what she'd seen overwhelmed her. At last, however she continued; " There were thin, dark legs sprouting from his head, spider's legs, each ending in a sharp, black claw." As the ghost recounted this vision of hell, she became fainter, and fainter until at last no trace was left.

Belial, Magnus thought, a greater demon. Someone had sent a greater demon after his three year old son, and at least one shadowhunter was involved! An enormous flash of blue light erupted from Magnus' finger tips. A scream of rage tore from his throat as he let the full implications of what he'd learned sink in.

"Magnus!" Izzy yelled hesitating to get too close to the enraged warlock until she was sure he recognized her as a friend. "What the hell is going on?" Then she saw the body of the dead housekeeper and her eyes widened in shock. "Magnus where's Aiden?"

Managing to get himself back under control, Magnus filled Isabelle in on what he knew. "We have to get back to the Institute so I can track my son. If any harm has come to him, someone is going to pay very dearly indeed." 

Shuddering, Izzy thought she might have preferred Magnus' wild rage to the deadly calm that replaced it. Turning away abruptly, Isabelle grabbed her cell phone and arranged to have the body of the housekeeper collected, then hurried back to the Institute with her grim brother-in-law. Jace met them in Alec's office, concern written clearly on his handsome face.

In as few words as possible, Magnus told the two shadowhunters about the attack on Janus Dark and his belief that the Hellfire club was behind the kidnapping. 

"The Hellfire Club actually exists?" Jace said; "I thought it was just an old legend."

"Oh it exists alright;" Magnus replied grimly. "And as long as there are shadowhunters, downworlders and even mundanes with depraved tastes, and a desire for power, it will continue to exist." 

"And you believe Aiden was taken because his blood can be used in the cure for demon pox, curatio demoni...whatever it's called?" Izzy asked. The thought of it appalled her, but at least if it was true, the kidnappers would have a vested interest in keeping the child alive.

A curt nod was Magnus' only response to Isabelle's question, and with very little more said by any of the others, they soon went their separate ways to prepare for whatever came next. Magnus withdrew to begin his tracking spell, Izzy to arrange for their inevitable absence from the Institute, and Jace had the unenviable task of sending the fire message that would recall Alec home. How do you tell your brother that his only son has been kidnapped, and that there is reason to believe at least one shadowhunter was involved?

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Alec caught up with Josh and Ian at a small cafe off Angel Square. The white stone façade of the building was partially obscured and softened by old vines whose gnarled branches seemed to grow right out of the wall. Cheerful planter boxes decorated each window and elaborate black wrought iron tables and chairs sat on the sidewalk out front. 

Alec's mind was not on his pleasant surroundings however, he was worried about what might happen to Josh and Ian if Isaiah Blackwell found proof of a romantic relationship between the two boys. Alec knew he had to caution them, and make sure they understood what could happen if the Clave found out they were secretly involved. 

It was Ian that first looked up and saw Alec, the smile that lit up his honest face broke Alec's heart a little bit, and he wished, more than anything, he could take these two boys back to new York and protect them from the harsher realities of the Clave's intolerance.

"Alec! What are you doing here?" Ian asked.

"Checking up on us!" Josh replied with a smirk. "He knows better than to think we've been model prisoners."

"Has it been that bad?" Alec asked before he could stop himself. He still vividly remembered his and Jace's training with Blackwell. Jace, of course, impressed the irascible instructor with his extraordinary abilities, so Blackwell had focused on Alec who he believed was not good enough to be Jace's parabatai. It had been a painful and difficult experience for Alec, who had also been struggling with the fact that he was gay, and believed he was in love with Jace.

Just as Alec settled himself at the table, preparing to warn the two young shadowhunters about the danger that Isaiah Blackwell represented, a fire message arrived that stole the very breath from his lungs. 

"Alec, what's wrong!?" Josh cried.

"It's Aiden, h-he's been kidnapped..." Alec gasped, trying desperately to wrap his mind around the horrifying message that Jace had sent. "I-I have to go back!"

"We are coming too!" Ian and Josh said in one voice. 

Alec gave a curt nod, he could not imagine facing this crisis without those, who had become like family, by his side.


	12. Chapter 12

Three days had passed since Shivvy met Daniel in the abandoned churchyard near her home in East Linton. Now, she paced restlessly up and down the guest room she'd been assigned at Eilean Donan, the ancestral home of the McKenzies. Her days had been filled from dawn to dark with meaningless social activities, leaving her no time to slip away and meet Daniel, who she knew had followed her here. Even sending fire messages was risky under Gerard McKenzie's watchful eyes.

Thoughts of McKenzie sent a chill down Shivvy's spine. Greater acquaintance with the Head of the Edinburgh Institute had done nothing to change the girl's opinion of him. He was just like his home, dark, brooding and cold. The ancient castle sat on a craggy tidal island, attached to the mainline by and a heavy stone bridge. The feeling of being cut off, isolated from everyone she held dear lay heavy on Shivvy's heart, and made her count the minutes until she could leave this awful place.

Shivvy looked around the guest room she'd been assigned. The walls were covered in heavy oak panelling, the furniture large, dark and formal. The cold stone floor was covered in a threadbare oriental carpet that might have at one time been vibrant shades of red and gold, but was now a faded remnant of its former glory. Heavy, old fashioned drapes covered the small windows and surrounded the uncomfortable four poster bed. Taken all together the effect was gloomy and unwelcoming. 

The young girl lay down on top of the bed, hesitant to pull back the covers, even though the room was rather cold. Tired as she was, and wearied more in spirit than anything else, Shivvy doubted she would be able to get much sleep. The creaks and groans that an old, strange place always seems to make, enough to keep her on edge. Somewhere in the ancient castle, Shivvy heard a clock strike three, and remembered someone describing that hour as the midnight of the soul when, ' you're the nearest to dead you'll ever be save dying.' 

Just as she began to drift off, the distant sound of a child's cry, frightened and somehow familiar, jarred her awake..... Aiden? It couldn't be, surely he was safe at home with Magnus and Alec, wasn't he?

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Daniel LaCroix stood in a dark corner of the room watching impatiently as the setting sun dipped below the surrounding hills. It had been days since he had last seen or heard from Shivvy McRae, and all the rumours and tidbits of information he'd gleaned about Eilean Donan and its stern master served only to heighten his concern. The intervening years since Daniel first met Shivvy at the Chateau Trecesson had seen great changes in the young vampire. Where a sensitive, traumatized boy had been, a strong, handsome young man stood, confident in his abilities and with a true sense of purpose. 

Accepting what had happened to him in France, being turned against his will into a vampire, had been difficult, but with the help of the New York shadowhunters, particularly Simon, he'd adjusted. He'd even begun to make inroads into the downworld community forging alliances, and developing some friendships along the way. Those relationships stood him in good stead, particularly now, as he tried to find out as much as he could about the Head of the Edinburgh Institute. 

Daniel was staying at an abandoned manor house in the vicinity of Eilean Donan. The manor was owned by the local vampire clan, and looked, to any passing mundane, like a derelict shell with crumbling stone walls and gaping holes in the roof. The reality was really quite different. The elegant sitting room he stood in boasted comfortable winged back chairs and overstuffed sofas surrounding a large stone hearth. The windows were covered, floor-to-ceiling by heavy blackout drapes that provided amble security for the manor's inhabitants from the harmful rays of the sun. 

Sighing softly as he continued to wait, Daniel hoped that the man he expected to see shortly would have some definitive news for him about the elusive Gerard McKenzie, and what, if anything, he wanted with Shivvy McRae. Suddenly small flashes of brilliant light engulfed in darkness deeper than the night swirled around the stone wall that surrounded the overgrown garden, and the young vampire knew his guest had arrived.

Moving swiftly into the grand entrance hall, Daniel opened the heavy oak door to admit his guest, Aidan Briosag, the High Warlock of Edinburgh. Aidan brushed past him into the manor, a curt nod the only indication that he was greeting someone he knew.

"Have you heard from Shivvy?" He asked before sweeping off his dark cloak and handing it to the boy. 

"No, not a word;" Daniel replied somberly as he took up the cloak and led Aidan into the lounge he'd recently abandoned. A fitful fire flickered on the hearth, creating strange shadows in the deep corners of the room. 

Aidan Briosag frowned at Daniel's response. The High Warlock had never particularly liked Gerard McKenzie, finding him arrogant and officious, but he'd known no actual ill of the man, and relations between the Edinburgh downworld and the Clave had improved over the course of his tenure as head of the Institute. Aidan hadn't expected to find much of interest when Daniel asked him to check out McKenzie, he understood that the young vampire would be suspicious, but showing interest in Shivvy McRae was hardly a crime; besides Aidan thought Shivvy quite capable of taking care of herself.

Once the High Warlock began to scratch the surface, however, he became more concerned. Gerard McKenzie was a man with secrets, dangerous secrets. The first piece of information that came Aidan's way was that a particularly loathsome potion maker by the name of Marcus Gorgon had been seen slipping into the back door of the Edinburgh Institute. Gorgon had made a name for himself throughout Eastern Europe for to his willingness to experiment with highly dangerous ingredients on innocent mundanes and downworlders. Broisag was not at all pleased to find this warlock visiting his beloved city, and wondered what business he could have with the local shadowhunters.

The second piece of information, and just as disturbing, was that the Hellfire club was recruiting again. In the past, Aidan Briosag had suspected there might be a link between the Edinburgh Institute and the Hellfire Club, but he had no actual proof, and that was not a charge to be leveled lightly. With the terrible history that existed between the Clave and the Edinburgh downworld, Aidan did not trust the shadowhunters to adequately investigate or police their own. It had been with great reluctance he decided to use the only method he had of determining the truth of his suspicions, he summoned a demon. Aidan Briosag was an old and powerful warlock, and he knew that such an act was fraught with danger, not only to himself as the summoner, but also to the mundane world if he failed to control the situation. It had been a harrowing experience, but the upshot was he knew the Hellfire Club was meeting at Eilean Donan, and Shivvy McRae was likely in mortal danger.

All that remained now was to update Daniel on what he'd discovered and help the young vampire get his beloved Shivvy away from this cursed place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote "you're the nearest to dead you'll ever be save dying" is from Ray Bradbury's 'Something Wicked This Way Comes.'


	13. Chapter 13

Deep within the heart of Eilean Donan, in a stone room with no windows and no obvious door, five people, and one demon, sat around a large rectangular table. The room was lit by three candelabras, each containing six black tapers, and by the fire that blazed on the ancient hearth. Carved deeply into the great mantel that surrounded the fireplace was a large capital 'H' split diagonally by a scrolled lowercase 'f' which stood for Hellfire. The letters were surrounded by nine concentric circles representing the nine circles of Hell. A devil's mask that dipped into the top three circles completed the demonic emblem.

Gerard McKenzie, Abbot of the Hellfire club, sat at the top of the table and called his council to order. At his right sat the Sacrist, fellow shadowhunter Isaiah Blackwell who was responsible for the club's treasury and finances. On Gerard's left sat the Circuitor, a vampire named Madeline Pyre who was responsible for discipline within the ranks of the club. She was the only woman on the council and took great pride in her beauty, strength and position. The other council members included Marcus Gorgon a warlock and potion maker, Hunter Gray a large, heavy set grizzled werewolf, and Balial, lieutenant to Asmodeus the demon prince of lust.

It was an impressive council, perhaps the most impressive to ever steer the Hellfire club and Gerard McKenzie felt no little pride that he led such a group. "Welcome to Eilean Donan;" The Abbot said. "As you know, we will be including an initiation ceremony with this evening's grand ball...." 

A sudden interruption in the form of a fire message brought an abrupt halt to the proceedings. The council watched with growing concern as McKenzie scanned the document, his face suffused in anger. The Abbot abruptly turned toward his Circuitor; "I thought you said you'd taken care of Janus Dark!" He snarled stepping threateningly into Madeline's personal space.

"He was as good as dead when we left!" She defended.

"Apparently not." Gerard hissed; "And that means we need to prepare for the possibility that Dark has told Magnus Bane of our interest in his son;"

Madeline took a deep, steadying breath, she was no coward, but she knew they'd messed up not ensuring Dark was dead before they left the potion maker's shop. It had been sloppy and now she was going to have to bear the brunt of the Abbot's anger.

Too quickly for anyone to expect it, or react, McKenzie raised his hand and gave the vampire a vicious slap across the face. A satisfied smirk played on McKenzie's lips as he saw her head snap to the left and a small trickle of blood run down from the corner of her mouth. "I should let Balial play with you;" He said, his voice deadly calm now; 

Balial's face, strangely feminine with full sensual lips, high cheek bones, and eyes that were pure demonic fire, lit up at the possibility of having his way with Madeline, until the Abbot continued.

"Unfortunately we don't have time for that right now, we must prepare for the ball and the initiation. Even more pressingly, we need to know what Bane is planning and how to counteract the threat he presents. We will meet again in two hours time, I expect you to have information and plans in place."

With those words still ringing through the room, Gerard McKenzie stalked out. To say that he was angry was an understatement, and it wasn't just this latest development that had tried his temper. Just as the Devil's Tarot had indicated, Shivaun McRae was proving to be recalcitrant regarding her potential future as the wife of the Edinburgh Institute's head shadowhunter. The girl seemed to have no concept of the honour being done her. It was annoying in the extreme. McKenzie knew Corrine McRae favoured the union, but then why wouldn't she, her son was irrevocably connected to the disgraced Cameron clan. This was a chance to redeem the McRae family's reputation. People would forget, especially if the boys stayed in New York.

It wasn't that Gerard was in love with Shivaun, that emotion he reserved for himself alone, nor did it matter to him that she did not love him. His first wife, Lucy, had adored him and although initially her affection charmed him, he eventually grew irritated by it. No love was not at all what Gerard was looking for. Shivaun was attractive, he lusted after her, and he wanted more children to carry on the McKenzie name, love didn't enter into it at all. The Abbot took a deep, calming breath, it would not do to let this situation unsettle him, after all he had used the Devil's Tarot to show him the girl's secrets, now all that remained was to exercise a little patience before closing his trap. 

McKenzie's musing were cut short by the entrance of Isaiah Blackwell. "I hope you have better news for me!" The Abbot said curtly, and was reassured by the sly smile that spread across Blackwell's thin lips.

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

A sharp rap on the door brought Shivvy to her feet. Who could want her this early in the morning? A maid entered before the girl had time to answer. 

"Lord McKenzie wishes to speak with you miss." The maid looked Shivvy over with a critical eye and the young shadowhunter was very aware she found her wanting. "I'll escort you to the master's study."

Irritated by the young woman's critical assessment, Shivvy squared her shoulders and snapped; "Well, get on with it, lead the way." Anyone watching would know that this shadowhunter was not intimidated by anyone, no matter what their title or position. The maid took Shivvy through the castle's narrow stone passageways until they came to a heavy oak door. She knocked twice and waited until she heard her lordship bid her to enter. The door moved silently on its hinges as the girl stepped forward; "Miss McRae Milord;" She said stepping aside to let Shivvy enter. As soon as the shadowhunter cleared the entrance, the maid stepped out of the study and closed the door behind her. Back in the hallway the girl hesitated, she would dearly love to know what was going on in the room she'd just left, but her master was not an easy man, and incurring his anger was to be avoided at all costs. Heaving a sigh, the maid hasten back the way she'd come intent on finishing her morning chores and then enjoying a cup of tea in the kitchen with the rest of the servants.

Gerard McKenzie regarded his guest with an amount of solemn concern that had Shivvy off balance from the outset. "Please have a seat my dear;" he said. "I'm sorry to have summoned you like this, but I have received news of the most alarming kind that involves your family, and I wish to keep this private for as long as humanly possible;"

Shivvy gasped, what could this man know about her family, or anything else that was of importance to her? With great effort she reined in her emotions and addressed the Heard of the Edinburgh Institute; "I don't understand your concern, please be plain."

Gerard McKenzie was impressed, the girl had courage and spirit, but he was a master of manipulation and though he, as yet, had no definitive proof for what he was about to say he expected her to believe him. "Shivaun, Isaiah Blackwell has been to see me. As you know, he is the instructor of the class that your brother and his parabatai Josh Cameron are attending." McKenzie paused momentarily to give the girl time to absorb his words.

"Has something happened to Ian?" Shivvy asked, her voice laced with concern.

"No, no, I assure you there has been no accident, and yet what I must tell you is, in some ways, just as devastating. Blackwell believes that an inappropriate, romantic relationship exists between your brother and Josh Cameron. He says he has proof, or he would not bring me such serious allegations." McKenzie said, watching the girl's face carefully. He had no such proof, but she did not know that. It was a gamble, and the Abbot loved games of chance, he had honed his 'poker face' well over the years.

"I will have no choice but to turn this matter over to the Clave Shivvy, unless you give me the ability to protect your family, by becoming my wife...."

~~~~~!!!!!~~~~~

Madeline Pyre slipped unseen from Eilean Donan into the dark night. A faint blue bruise graced her cheek where the Abbot had slapped her earlier, it would fade away to nothing in a few days, but the memory of it would remain, smoldering until another slight fanned it into the bright flame of hatred. She had not deserved to be singled out for the Abbot's displeasure, but McKenzie would never dare raise his hand to Balial. Well, soon he would realize it wasn't safe to raise his hand to her either! That fool thought he was the power behind the Hellfire Club, as if! 

At last she arrived at her destination, a small, ramshackle country inn that served as the local pub for area farmers. The Witch's Brew sat at the edge of an old country road, and was really little more than a two story cottage. Its ancient gray stone walls were covered in green moss at the base, and the rough, weathered oak door gave the place a brooding, neglected air. Madeline pushed the door open and stepped into a more cheerful scene than the exterior of the Inn would lead one to expect. There were several farmers chatting at the bar and others sitting at small tables strew about the room. A young bar maid caring a heavy tray laden with tankards of beer and stout wove between the tables depositing her load and collecting the empties. A good fire on the hearth took the evening chill out of the air, and lively music came from a small sound system located behind the bar. Madeline did not stop to take in any of the ambience however, she made straight for a small table in the back corner where a tall, handsome man waited. He rose to greet her and she went into his arms whispering...."master."


	14. Chapter 14

The swirling magic of a portal began to shift and morph on the old stone wall that surrounded the back garden of the New York Institute. A lone figure stood, tense and anxious waiting to receive the arrivals. The first figure to emerge was Alec, his face clearly displaying the anguish caused by the news that brought him home so abruptly. Josh and Ian tumbled out behind him and stood by helplessly while Magnus held his distraught shadowhunter tightly in his arms.

With great effort, Alec pulled himself away from Magnus and scanned the warlock's face understanding immediately that his husband had no good news to impart, he waited for Magnus to speak.

"Jace and Izzy are in your office;" Magnus' voice was quiet, but Alec could hear the urgency behind his words. "I'll bring everyone up to date as soon as we join them." Waiting only for the briefest nod from Alec, Magnus turned on his heel and led them briskly into the Institute, pausing only once to ask the new housekeeper to send some coffee up. 

The woman inclined her head slightly to indicate she'd heard and moved past them to fulfill her mission. Alec frowned slightly as he watched her move silently down the hall. She was the first tangible sign of the horrendous changes that had happened at the Institute during his brief absence. He had been quite fond of her predecessor, the cheerful, kindly woman who had lost her life trying to protect his beautiful Aiden. Alec couldn't suppress the sob that broke from him, and Magnus hasten to place a comforting arm around his beloved.

As they entered his office, Alec could see Jace and Izzy sitting around the fireplace and wondered how things could still look so normal, when his world was spinning out of control. Jace rose and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. No words were spoken on either side, but Alec knew Jace would move heaven and earth to bring Aiden back to his family. 

Magnus sat in one of the large armchairs, pulling Alec into his lap, giving and taking whatever comfort he could from the proximity of his husband. It was a mark of how close the small group at the New York Institute was that this open display of affection seemed perfectly natural and welcome, easing some of the tension in the room

Once everyone was settled, Magnus relayed the story that Janus Dark had told him, about the death of Xavier Malum, and the secret of the Curatio Daemonium Insanitas and the Hellfire Club. 

"You mean to tell me there are shadowhunters alive today that risk the fate of Benedict Lightwood for fun?" Isabelle asked sharply. The Lightwood family rarely spoke of Benedict, but they all knew the price he'd paid for consorting with demons.

"I'm afraid so;" Magnus replied; "Some shadowhunters, downworlders, and even mundanes are not immune to such depraved tastes. According to Janus the curatio he prepares, although not a true cure for demon pox, eliminates the symptoms of the disease for as long as the victim takes it regularly."

"And you think the Hellfire Club is responsible for Aiden's kidnapping?" Alec interrupted.

"It would make sense, with Xavier Malum dead, Aiden would be the only source of the blood they need for the curatio." Magnus said, steel in his deadly calm tone.

"Surely Janus Dark wouldn't continue making the potion for them if they sent him the blood;" Josh spoke up for the first time since entering Alec's office. 

"No, he wouldn't, but Janus said the Hellfire Club had been trying to make the curatio themselves for quite some time, and now they know the secret of the blood, it's unlikely that they would need him to."

"So;" Jace said, a grim smile spreading across his handsome face; "How do we go about finding this Hellfire Club and getting Aiden away from them?"

Anxious faces turned toward Magnus and were shocked to see thea fleeting look of fear and desperation cross his face. "I-I've spent the last several hours trying to use a tracking spell to locate Aiden, without success." Magnus said, voice breaking slightly. Alec alone knew what it cost the self confident, powerful warlock to admit, that when it mattered most, his magic had failed him. 

"Magnus;" Alec spoke his husband's name softly, and might have tried to offer words of comfort and encouragement, but the warlock raised his hand to forestall him and continued grimly; "When I found the body of the housekeeper in the park, I was able to recall her spirit briefly. There were three men involved in the abduction, a warlock, a shadowhunte, and, from her description, a greater demon by the name of Belial."

"Belial, he's one of Asmodeus' lieutenants, isn't he? Alec asked.

"It's a good thing someone was paying attention during Hodge's demon identification classes;" Jace quipped. "What's his claim to fame, other than being a flunky for the demon of lust?"

Brushing aside his earlier dip into feelings of despair, Magnus continued; "Belial is a seducer and collector of souls, he can appear in any form, and usually chooses something that will be most appealing to his chosen victim. He has the ability to wield hell fire, but only in his natural form. I suspect that it is his power that is preventing my tracking spells from finding Aiden;"

"So, what do we do now? Izzy asked; "How are we going get my nephew back home where he belongs?"

"I have sent out requests for information on the Hellfire Club to all my extensive downworld acquaintances;" Magnus replied; "I hope that one of them will be able to provide us a lead." Magnus' arms tightened around Alec, knowing how his words would affect him. If you could feel another's heart break, Magnus knew he would be feeling Alec's break now, and was glad that, from this position, he could not see the despair in his lover's eyes.

As everyone struggled to come to terms with what had been said, the tension in the room increased. Jace, unable to curb his restless spirit, began to pace the room, frustrated by their inability to take more direct action to find Aiden. "There has to be some..."

Before Jace could complete his sentence, a fire message erupted in front of Magnus, startling everyone in the room. The warlock grabbed the message and quickly scanned the contents. "It's from Aidan Briosag!" Magnus exclaimed; "And it seems he might have the lead on the Hellfire Club we've been praying for!" 

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Shivvy McRae was stunned by McKenzie's words. The man was trying to blackmail her into marrying him by threatening to expose her brother's romantic attachment to his parabatai, Josh Cameron. An attachment that was strictly forbidden under Clave law.

"Shivaun;" McKenzie continued; "If Blackwell has proof, your brother will be questioned by the Mortal Sword, and if he is found guilty, his marks will be stripped. I know how much Ian means to you, and I promise that if you give me the right, I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen."

Shivvy, who had kept her eyes firmly on the floor while she struggled to master her emotions, looked up now, straight at the man who believed he had her at his mercy. She would willingly have given her life to save either Ian or Josh if that had been asked of her, but her heart rebelled at the idea of marrying the cruel, heartless man in front of her. Even if she had not already given her love and loyalty to Daniel, the young vampire who had risked so much to help them against Lucia, how could she betray him? 

Gerard McKenzie squirmed slightly under the gaze of this courageous, unspoiled girl. Long standing depravity, such as his, quickly found its footing, however, and he demanded; "Unfortunately, I need your answer now my dear, if I am to have any chance of forestalling Blackwell and preventing this tragedy,"

Shivvy took a deep breath: "To save my brother, I will marry you, and fulfill the obligations of that decision. But, I will not pretend, to you or anyone else, that this marriage is anything other than a debt you have forced on me." 

Gerard smiled, a small, wicked smile. He did not care if the girl loved him, only that she could produce legitimate children, other than Addison, to carry on the McKenzie line. Things were falling into place, and he was pleased, very, very pleased.


	15. Chapter 15

Gerard McKenzie hurried down the narrow, twisting stairway that led to the dungeons of Eilean Donan. One of the dank, windowless cells had been converted into a potion room for Marcus Gorgon's experiments. Next to Janus Dark, Gorgon knew more about demon pox and the various 'cures' that had been developed over the centuries than anyone else, and that made him indispensable to the Hellfire Club.

Knocking briskly on the door, the Abbot waited, a bit impatiently, for the warlock to bid him enter. Though McKenzie hated to be kept waiting, he knew better than to irritate the temperamental potion maker, one could never tell what sensitive, or dangerous potion might be brewing.

"Come;" A brisk, slightly nasal voice said.

The tall, slender warlock looked up from his work table as McKenzie entered the room. "What can I do for you, Abbot?" He asked, but the sly grin on his face told the shadowhunter that he knew exactly why McKenzie was there, and he found it amusing.

You know perfectly well, Grogon;" The Abbot growled, letting some of his irritation show.

"The Curatio, of course, of course, come right this way;" Marcus replied in a more conciliatory tone. He enjoyed his position with the Hellfire Club, and knew better than to push McKenzie too far. "We have almost used up the stock we took from Mallum." He added, holding his breath to see how the Abbot took this news.

"Well, take blood from the child and make more;" The Abbot said dismissively.

"Ahh.... That is a little problematic;" The potion maker said, raising his hand to hide the sly grin on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Gerard snapped. "You told me the boy was a perfect match!"

"Oh, he is, he is!" Gorgon hastened to assure the now very agitated Abbot. "It isn't a question of quality, it's a question of quantity. A child that small can only afford to lose a tiny amount of blood at a time, if you want to keep him alive." The potion maker paused allowing his words to sink in, and was pleased to see that McKenzie very quickly grasped the seriousness of the issue. Now that Mallum's remaining potion was all but depleted, only a small amount of the curatio could be made, not nearly enough for all the members that needed it. McKenzie would see to it that he had enough for himself, but he would need to find a solution if he didn't want a rebellion in the ranks.

"How many doses can be made from the amount of blood you can safely take?" McKenzie hissed. 

It was obvious to the potion maker that the Abbot was making a concerted effort to rein in his temper, and that he would probably love nothing better than to kill the bearer of such news. "No more than ten doses per week, Abbot;" Gorgon replied quietly.

"I will send you a list of the members, in addition to myself, that are to receive the new curatio. Prepare one of the older recipes for the rest. It will not be as effective, but they won't notice in the short term, and that will buy YOU time to find a solution, Gorgon." McKenzie said grimly. He grabbed the curatio from the potion makers hand, downed it in one gulp and stalked from the room.

Marcus Gorgon smiled as he watched the Abbot leave. McKenzie could bluster as much as he wanted to, but Gorgon knew, he was in the 'cat bird seat', the Abbot was at his mercy. A man less confident in his own skills might have been afraid, but that man was not Marcus Gorgon. 

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Daniel LaCroix stepped across the threshold of Eilean Donan with the five other novitiates for acceptance into the Hellfire Club. Anxious as he was about what the next twenty-four hours might involve, he was relieved to be this much closer to Shivvy, and getting her away from this cursed place. Daniel hadn't paid too much attention to the other novitiates, they'd met at a pub in the village called 'The Three Sisters' which, judging by the picture on the sign, was a reference to the three witches who accosted Macbeth and spurred him on to murder. The novitiates barely had time to acknowledge each other before a servant from Eilean Donan arrived to take them to the castle.

Daniel looked around carefully as the group was led to a small waiting room where each of them received a drink. The young vampire stared into his goblet which appeared to be full of blood and wondered if that was all that was in it? He knew he had no choice but to drink it, anything else would draw suspicion on himself, and he could not afford to do that if he was going to find Shivvy. After taking a deep breath, he drained the glass and placed it on a nearby table. Within moments of finishing the drink, Daniel felt a bit unfocused and dizzy, almost as if he had had too much alcohol. He shook his head trying unsuccessfully to clear his mind. At that moment, a door on the other side of the room opened and a masked man ushered the six novitiates into a large stone chamber.

The windowless room was dominated by a huge stone fireplace which looked more like a gaping maw to Daniel's befuddled mind. Carved deeply into the mantle was the symbol of the Hellfire club, a capital 'H' split diagonally by a scrolled lowercase 'f' surrounded by nine concentric circles, and topped by a devil's head mask. It was all Daniel could do not to shudder at the evil and depravity it represented. How could a mother who purported to love her child ever send her to this terrible place?

Aidan Briosag had helped Daniel plan this rescue, concerned by what they'd learned about Gerard McKenzie and his connection with the Hellfire Club. A lot of the information had been rumour, at best, but it was enough to convince Aidan that McKenzie was not to be trusted with the wellbeing of a young, innocent girl, and Daniel had no doubt that if Aidan was standing here beside him, he would be feeling a similar sense of horror and dread. The sound of a gavel hitting a solid wooden table shattered the eerie silence, and brought the attention of all the novitiates to the front of the room where six masked and cloaked figures sat around a dark wooden table.

In the mundane world, devil's masks were often grotesque, hideous depictions of evil, but the masks worn by the Abbot and his council were stark white, handsome and perhaps a little cruel in their presentation of beauty without humanity. Daniel found himself thinking of Lucifer, the light-bearer, the beautiful fallen angel who had tried to put himself above God. Another sharp rap of the gavel brought the young vampire attention back to the table in front of him. Two, almost hidden, doors on either side of the chamber opened and in streamed a dozen men all wearing similar robes and masks. The newcomers station themselves on each side the novitiates securing them in place.

"Let the initiation begin!" McKenzie's voice rang out echoing in the nearly empty chamber. A figure to the left of the Abbot rose and began to move toward the novitiates. He seemed to float above the floor and no sound of a foot fall could be heard as he touched the shoulder of each anxious candidate. Screams of pain, and the sickening smell of burning flesh was the universal reaction to his ministrations, until he came to Daniel. 

Daniel felt the same searing pain, but he refused to cry out. The demon, for it was Balial, stopped and looked deeply into the vampire's eyes, then he leant closer and took a deep breath in; "Delicious!" he murmured and began to laugh, a frightening, mirthless sound, as he walked back to join the others.

"Each of you have now been marked with the emblem of the Hellfire Club." The Abbot said addressing the novitiates who were standing, pale and frightened waiting anxiously for the next instructions. "In two hours time, you will be attending your first Hellfire ball. Each of you will be expected to demonstrate one or more of the seven guiding principles of the club. We will be watching!" With that the council rose as one and swept from the room.

Seven guiding principles Daniel thought with disgust, he had been taught to consider them the seven deadly sins.... pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth.


	16. Chapter 16

Maryse Lightwood slipped into one of the guest chairs in Jia Penhallow's office. It had become something of a ritual for the two women to share a drink at the end of a busy workday. Jia poured each of them a glass of red wine waiting only for the traditional 'cheers' before taking her first sip. They smiled, expecting nothing more than a relaxing end to the hectic day when an unexpected knock at the door shattered that illusion.

"Come;" Jia barked.

Roderick Starkweather entered the room; "Consul;" He said acknowledging Jia's position, "The Warlock Representative, Felicia Phantom requests an interview;"  
Starkweather looked as though he would like nothing better than to tell Phantom to come back in the morning, and maybe then the Consul would TRY to fit her in.

Jia took a deep breath and said; "Roderick, show High Warlock Phantom in without delay."

The disgruntled shadowhunter acknowledged his orders and ushered woman into the office. 

Felicia Phantom was a tall, elegant woman, not beautiful exactly, but arresting. She had vibrant red hair and glittering green eyes that seemed to mesmerize you if you stared into them too long. Black bat wings fluttered behind her as she moved gracefully into the room.

"Felicia, what can I do for you?" Jia asked crisply, gesturing the woman to take a seat, and trying to rein in her personal dislike of the latest warlock representative on the council. Her self-important, condescending manner irritated Jia, and made her look back rather fondly to the irreverent Magnus Bane's time in that office.

Phantom looked sharply at Maryse Lightwood, hesitating to state her business long enough that Jia felt compelled to snap; "Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Maryse, Felicia, please get to the point."

"There has been a murder in Salem, Consul Penhallow. The body of warlock, Xavier Malum was recently found, and now a friend of his, Janus Dark has disappeared. I demand you begin an immediate investigation!" Phantom paused waiting to see the effect of this rather startling news.

"Yes, Felicia I have been informed of this serious matter, and I assure you the Clave has already begun looking into it." Jia replied wondering why Phantom would waste her time with this. She did not have to wonder long.

"Some information has come to my attention that might assist the investigation." The warlock said, her cold green eyes glinting maliciously. "It seems that the last person known to have seen the missing potion maker, Janus Dark, was Magnus Bane."

Malum? Maryse thought, why did that name sound so familiar, and frightening? Oh, Ohhh! Chance Malum the warlock who had incurred the wrath of the Clave for marrying a shadowhunter and....

Jia glanced at Maryse and marvelled, not for the first time, at the other woman's composure. Whatever her feelings about hearing this news, no one watching her would be privy to them. Consul Penhallow turned her attention back to Felicia Phantom wondering just what Magnus had done to earn this woman's enmity. If the high Warlock of Brooklyn had anything to do with this deplorable business, the Coven would most likely wish to handle it without the intervention of the Clave, and yet here was the warlock representative volunteering information; "I will pass your information along Felicia, now is there anything else?"

Phantom knew she was being dismissed and didn't like it. "I look forward to getting an update from you on this matter at the next Council meeting." She snarled, not caring that it sounded more like a threat than genuine concern to see justice done. Magnus Bane had failed to show due respect either to her position, or her personal charms, and she was determined to make him regret it. 

A curt nod of the head was Jia's only response, and she waited several minutes after the door closed behind Phantom before taking a deep breath and muttering; "Insufferable bitch."

Maryse gave her a shocked look before the guilty grin on Jia's face caused her previously cautious demeanor to crack, and both women began to giggle like the school girls they'd been long ago.

Jia was the first to regain her composure. "I hate to ask this of you Maryse, but can you check with Magnus and Alec about Janus Dark. I have learned to trust the New York Institute despite their tendency to take an unorthodox approach;" A small smile broke over Jia's face; "Truthfully maybe it's because they do." She huffed.

"I'll check in with Alexander first thing in the morning and let you know;" Maryse replied as she rose to leave. "Have a good evening Jia;" She added. 

Arriving at her flat in Alicante, just off Angel Square, Maryse didn't remember the walk, or even what the weather was like. Her mind was totally preoccupied with concern for her precious grandson. The Clave had no reason to question her story about Alec and Magnus adopting a warlock baby, but if an investigation into the disappearance of Janus Dark was about to begin in New York, and Magnus was in involved in any way....

Maryse shook her head in an effort to clear her mind of the formless fears that had taken hold. She did not need to borrow trouble, and hopefully a quick call to Alec would assure her that there was no reason to worry. She walked over to the discrete liquor cabinet near her desk and poured herself another glass of wine. Maryse didn't usually indulge in a second glass, but tonight there was a chill in the air and her mind kept drifting to that terrible story about the warlock, Chance Malum who had found a way, through magic, to have a child with his shadowhunter wife. It was a terrible, old story, the Clave of that time were horrified not only by the marriage, but by the magic that could produce warlock offspring. The warlock and his child were killed, and the shadowhunter stripped of her marks. Maryse took a large gulp of wine and shuddered at the thought of a similar fate happening to her family, if the secret of young Aiden's birth was ever discovered. The magic that Malum used was still illegal and the punishment harsh. 'Sed Lex, dura Lex' The Law is hard, but it is the Law, the Covenant she was sworn to uphold, seemed to mock her as she grabbed the phone and began to dial the familiar number.... 

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

The haunting cry of a distraught child woke Shivvy from her fitful sleep. Glancing at the clock by her bed she saw it was ten minutes to midnight and she sighed, it was going to be another, long, restless night. Ever since she had agreed to the terrible bargain with McKenzie, sleep, peace of any kind, eluded her. How had she allowed herself to get into this mess, she loved her brother Ian and his parabatai Josh, and wanted to protect them more than anything, but to end her relationship with Daniel and tie herself to a man she detested....

The terrified, lonely cry came again breaking into the girl's tortured thoughts. She had heard it before and wondered why no one seemed to try to comfort the distressed child. Rising to her feet, Shivvy moved quietly to the door of her room and looked cautiously out into the hallway. Once she'd ascertained the way was clear, she crept quietly down the passage toward the source of those heart wrenching cries.


	17. Chapter 17

Shivvy was careful to mark her route as she grew nearer and nearer to the source of those painful cries. The last thing she wanted was to get lost in the maze that was this ancient castle. Up ahead she saw a sliver of light around a partially open door and knew this was where her quest would end. 

Before she could take more than a step or two towards her goal, Shivvy heard the heavy tread of someone moving along the hallway. Silently the girl slipped into a curtained window seat across from the doorway, planning to hide until whoever it was passed by. Unfortunately the footsteps began to slow as they reached the door, and Shivvy held her breath lest any sound or movement betray her presence. 

"What's this I hear, little mouse, trouble sleeping?" The cold, creepy voice sent shivers of fear up the shadowhunter's back. Moving carefully, Shivvy look through the crack in the curtains and saw a tall, thin man push the door open wider to reveal the cowering body of a familiar, three year old boy, Aiden Lightwood! 

It was all the shadowhunter could do to suppress the gasp that threatened to escape as she saw the terrified child. She knew she would not be able to help Aiden if she were caught spying, and resigned herself to watching the macabre scene play out in front of her.

"I've brought you a present little mouse;" The man said towering over the trembling child. He snapped his fingers and a small plush teddy bear appeared in his hand. "Don't be shy;" He added holding the toy out as the boy backed away from him. Another snap of the warlock's long, thin fingers and his victim was frozen in place. "I did so hope I wouldn't have to do this. You have no idea how precious you are to me, or at least your blood is;" The man laughed, a high, cruel, tuneless sound that sent a shiver down the spine of the girl silently watching. Picking the child up, the warlock placed him on the bed and removed a large needle from the pocket of his robe. "This won't hurt a bit;" he chuckled seeming to enjoy the fear he saw in the boys eyes, and that his tiny mouth was open in a silent scream, as Gorgon began drawing blood from the boy.

Once he had as much as was safe to take, Gorgon looked into the terrified child's eyes and said; "You really have nothing to worry about. This!" He said pointing to the vial of blood; "Is your guarantee of safety. It will keep you alive and make me one of the richest and most powerful of warlocks." With another snap of his fingers, he released the boy from his paralysis and put him to sleep. 

"Well, I must be off little mouse, so much to do, so little time!" The warlock said smiling. "It wouldn't do to be late to the Devil's Ball. what would the Abbot say, but I forget, you don't know the Abbot yet, a pleasure for another time. Sleep well little mouse, while you can." With that parting remark Marcus Gorgon swept from the room.

Shivvy waited until she could no longer hear Gorgon's footsteps before leaving the shelter of her hiding spot in the window seat. She moved quickly into the room and over to the bed that held the sleeping boy. Reaching out in a gesture of comfort, she swept the boy's black hair off his forehead and bent down to kiss him. "I don't know how you came to be here Aiden;" she said softly; "But, by the Angel, I will get you home to your daddies if it's the last thing I ever do!" Knowing she would not be able to rouse the boy from his magically induced sleep, she slowly pulled the covers over him, a sob almost escaping as the child nestled toward her familiar presence. No one here must know what she had found. Shivvy slipped quietly from the room, intending to retrace her steps, she needed time to think, to plan how to get Aiden away from these mad men.

Moving quickly down the hallway, Shivvy's mind was swirling with unanswered questions; how had Aiden ended up at Eilean Donan? Where were Magnus and Alec? How was she going to get the child out of here when she hadn't even been able to send Daniel a message for days?

It was the sound of laughter, and the sinister strains of Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet that brought the girl to a sudden sense of her present surroundings. Nothing about this hallway looked familiar, and Shivvy realized she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. On her left she saw double doors which seemed to be where all the noise was coming from. Opening one door, just a crack she saw what looked to be a dark, empty balcony high above a ballroom filled with extraordinarily dressed guests. 

Creeping onto the balcony, Shivvy saw a dais at one end of the room which held a large, ornately carved, wooden chair. The man sitting on the throne, for that is what it truly looked like, wore a long black frock coat over tight black trousers. The coat was lined in bright red fur, but his chest was bare. A plain white mask covered the man's face, and a headdress of red fur with two black horns jutting out on either side covered his hair. The whole effect was dramatic and rather sinister. It took Shivvy several minutes to tear her eyes away from the image and look at the rest of those assembled for the macabre masquerade ball. Most of the guests wore masks that prevented her from making any identifications, although some of them appeared to be shadowhunters if the glimpses of runes on their skin was anything to go by. The girl's eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of several guests who wore no masks at all, in fact they didn't wear much of anything, and were cavorting among the crowd on the dance floor, inciting a frenzy with each touch of a clawed hand or brush of moist red lips. Demons! There were demons at this party! 

Shivvy's mind tried to rebel at the images she was seeing, demons were not invited guests in the home of a shadowhunter, this couldn't be! But no matter how she rubbed her eyes, the horrifying images remained the same. Suddenly the man on the dais rose to his feet and called the unruly crowd to order. As silence engulfed the room, he spoke in a loud, commanding voice; "Bring in the novitiates!"

Double doors at the far end of the ballroom swung open at his words and a group of six people in black robes was led through the room and lined up in front of the dais with the guests at their backs. A murmur rose up from the crowd and they began to surge a little as if to get closer to novitiates, to touch them, engulf them.

The man on the dais called the crowd to order again, saying; "They will be among you soon enough." Then he addresses the black robed figures directly; "You know what is expected of you this evening. We will be watching, don't disappoint!" 

As his words died away, the six figures turned toward the crowd, and Shivvy caught her first look at their faces. Oh God! It couldn't be! But it was, there was Daniel, her Daniel, one of the novitiates in this hateful place! She couldn't believe it, what had happened to the kind, gentle boy she knew, the boy she loved? Without another thought she turned and fled from the balcony.


	18. Chapter 18

Maryse Lightwood stood in the garden of the New York Institute as the last swirls of magic from the portal that brought her faded away. In the early morning light, the overgrown shrubs and mature trees gave the place a secret, secluded look that brought back memories of three, small children running, laughing, playing games of hide-n-seek and tag. She wondered why it was only now she found those the most precious of her remembrances, when at the time she had been consumed by feelings of betrayal, exile, and bitterness. Shaking her head slightly to clear away the lingering feelings of nostalgia and loss she entered the Institute.

Maryse smiled slightly as she walked through the hallways of the gothic styled structure that had for many years been her home. She saw that Alec and Magnus had made small changes here and there, putting their own unique stamp on the place. Alec's classic, almost severe taste soften by Magnus hits of colour and love of comfort. The warlock would never have been her choice of a partner for her eldest son, but Maryse had to admit that perhaps Alexander had chosen better for himself than she would have done.

As she neared her son's office, Maryse began to think about the reasons for this unscheduled visit. The call she had made last evening had gone unanswered, not entirely unheard of, if nightly patrols had been more lively than usual. New York was a big city, home to many downworlders and mundanes. It required vigilance to ensure the safety of the populace from demon activity, as well as keep the peace between the species.

Maryse hoped that she could speak privately with Magnus and forestall any Clave investigation into the disappearance of Janus Dark involving the New York Institute. It wasn't that she truly believed the warlock was guilty of any wrong doing, but downworld politics and alliances could be very murky, and there was her grandson to consider. The laws prohibiting the magic used in his creation were still on the books, and if they were invoked it would be devastating to her family.

Arriving at the door to Alec's office, Maryse knocked briefly and strode into the room, not waiting for an invitation. She stopped abruptly as she saw Isabelle, instead of Alec, sitting at the desk.

"Where is your brother?" Maryse demanded.

"Hello to you too, mother;" Izzy responded schooling her features to hide the shock the older woman's sudden appearance produced. "Alec is away at the moment, can I help you with something?"

"Yes, tell Magnus I must see him immediately;" Maryse stated, not wishing to waste time sparring with her daughter.

"Magnus is with Alec, what's this about?" Izzy asked, not liking the look of consternation on her mother's face.

"When will they be back? It's crucial that I speak with them as soon as possible!"

Isabelle hesitated, for years she and her brothers had been very careful how much information they shared with their elders, and the habits of a lifetime were difficult to break. "Is there some problem?" she asked hoping to buy a bit more time to decide how much to confide about the kidnapping and Alec's whereabouts. 

Maryse sighed, she knew it would not be easy to pry information out of Isabelle unless she could first impress upon her daughter the urgency of sharing whatever she knew. "A warlock, Janus Dark, is missing. The Clave is looking into it and the first person they want to question is Magnus. The Warlock Council Representative seems to feel that Dark's disappearance may be related to the murder of Xaiver Malum. I don't need to tell you how dangerous a Clave Investigation in New York might be to Aiden." Maryse paused waiting to see the effect of her words.

"Oh my God!" Isabelle sank down in the nearest chair, taking several deep breaths to calm herself before she began to tell her mother the truth of their awful situation. Aiden had been kidnapped by members of the Hellfire Club who were also, very likely, responsible for the death of Xavier Malum. She didn't know anything about Janus Dark's disappearance, but Alec, Magnus and Jace had left several hours ago after receiving information on a possible meeting of the Hellfire Club in Scotland. She had no idea when they would return. The look of shock and fear on Maryse's face told Isabelle that any hope of avoiding Clave involvement was nil. 

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Aidan Briosag paced the dimly lit room of the old manor where he'd met Daniel LaCroix only a few short days ago. The distant rumble of thunder and flash of lightening, seemed to penetrate the gloomy room, and his disquiet thoughts. Magnus' request for information on the Hellfire Club had reached him here, sent along by his trusted second-in-command, Hamish Nathrach. Aidan wasted no time passing the information to Magnus and was now expecting a party from the New York Institute to arrive momentarily. 

The sudden appearance of swirling, blue magic on the far wall alerted Aidan that his guests were indeed here, and he smiled as he saw first Jace, then Alec and Magnus tumble from the vortex. 

"Alec, Magnus! It's been too long!" Aidan said, in his soft, Scottish brogue. The smile died on his lips, however, as he took in Magnus' grim expression, and Alec's pale, drawn face. "Whatever has brought ye here, I see it's not good, what can I do to help?"

Magnus grasped Alec's hand as he stepped toward Aidan Briosag. Jace fell into place behind them and waited, silently, for Magnus to answer; "My son has been kidnapped, and I believe the Hellfire Club is responsible. Aiden is part shadowhunter, part warlock, and that has made his blood essential to that cursed group."

Aidan Briosag was shocked by Magnus' words; " What could the Hellfire Club possibly want with my Godson's blood?" It was with growing concern that the High Warlock of Edinburgh heard the rest of the story. "Magnus, I am more sorry than I can say about this, and of course I will do anything I can to help. The Hellfire Club is meeting at Eilean Donan to invest new members, I am here at Daniel LaCroix's behest, he was concerned because Shivvy McRae is the guest of the master of Eilean Donan."

"Shivvy is here!?" Alec said, startled by the unexpected news.

"The master of Eilean Donan is none other than Gerard McKenzie, Head of the Edinburgh Institute. Aidan replied, waiting for the gasps of shock and muttering to die down before he continued. "Daniel has entered the castle as a potential novitiate of the Hellfire Club, to try and extricate Shivvy. I expect him here shortly. I don't know if your son is being kept at Eilean Donan, or if Daniel has been able to make contact with the girl, but at very least he should be able to tell us the best way into the fortress, and who we are likely to encounter while there. I will ask for reinforcements from the Edinburgh downworld if necessary." 

"Thank you Aidan!" Magnus replied as he pulled Alec into a tight embrace. He did not know exactly what they would be facing in the next few hours, but he would do whatever was required to locate their child and bring him back safely to Alec, Clave laws be damned!


	19. Chapter 19

Daniel LaCroix moved noiselessly through the darkened hallways of Eilean Donan. He had managed to slip away during the last hellacious hours of the Devil's Ball, by pretending to have succumbed to the myriad of drugs and enchanted drinks available to the Abbot's guests. The young vampire shuddered slightly as he remembered the scenes of depravity he had witnessed that evening, including the presentation of a severed head swathed in white silk and covered by a large bell jar. It was the head of a young woman, her eyes closed as though in sleep. Her eyebrows shaved off and replaced by two crossed stitches. In an eerie way, it reminded Daniel of the stitches that closed the mouths of the Silent Brothers. 

Perhaps the worst memories, however involved seeing shadowhunters and downworlders coupling with demons. One of his fellow novitiates had even tried to participate and ended up screaming as he was torn limb, from limb. Daniel knew he would have nightmares for years about some of the things he'd witnessed this night. 

On another, more personal level, his temper had been tried to the breaking-point, one of the club members was making crude comments concerning the engagement of Gerard McKenzie, the Abbot, to a much younger shadowhunter, Shivaun McRae. It had been all Daniel could do not to attack the man and make him retract the hateful words. His Shivvy would never agree to marry the leader of this depraved organization! It didn't really surprise him, in some ways, that McKenzie was head of the Hellfire Club, after all, they would hardly be meeting at Eilean Donan unless he was heavily involved, but Shivvy his fiancé, that Daniel would never accept. He had to find her and plan their escape before meeting Aidan Briosag back at the manor. Daniel knew he did not have much time if he didn't want his absence to be noticed by the Hellfire Club.

Lady Luck favoured Daniel in that desperate hour, and as he continued on, he heard what sounded like an argument coming from a room farther down the hallway.

"You shouldn't have been wandering around miss, master wouldn't like it!"  
"I'm your master's guest, not his PRISONER!" Said the loud, unmistakable voice of a very angry Shivvy McRae. She couldn't bring herself to say fiancé. "I suggest you go about your own business and leave me to mine."

"As you wish miss;" The servant replied, adding; "But I will have to tell master about this;" 

"Get Out!" Shivvy snarled at the woman before turning her back and walking over to the window.

The woman left and a few seconds later, Daniel slipped into the room. 

"I thought I told you to get out!" Shivvy snapped keeping her eyes trained on the dark garden outside her window. 

The whispered sound of her name had the girl whipping around, cold fury dancing in her dark brown eyes. "What are you doing here?" She demanded, contempt written in every line of her body.

"S-Shivvy;" Daniel said startled by the fierce, hostile look he was getting. "I-I'm here to help get you away. It's not safe. The Hellfire Club is using Eilean Donan for their meetings, and you shouldn't be here!" He stepped closer to the girl as he answered her question, only to stop short when she drew a seraph blade on him.

"Don't you take another step, and don't pretend you're not part of whatever is going on here!" Shivvy glared angrily at Daniel, hurt and betrayal etched on her pretty face. "I saw you with those degenerates and demons! You played me Daniel LaCroix, you let me believe you were the same, sweet, gentle boy Lucia stole, but you're not! 

Daniel stood there, seraph blade at his throat and stared at the girl he loved more than life itself. "I would not be in this cursed place unless it was to save you my Shivvy!" He tore at the collar of his shirt exposing the livid brand of the Hellfire Club on his breast. "T-this cursed mark I bare for you, the cost of getting close enough to try and help you escape." His voice broke as he relived the horror of his initiation. He could not accept the idea that she believed he would willingly be part of the Hellfire Club. 

Shivvy lowered her blade allowing the angelic fire to fade away. "Oh Daniel... she breathed letting her eyes tell him how sorry she was for not trusting him. As she lifted her left hand to gently stroke his cheek, Shivvy saw a strange, painful expression flit across the young vampire handsome face and he grabbed her wrist preventing her from touching him. There glinting innocently on her finger was the McKenzie family ring she'd accepted from Gerrard, the symbol of her promise to marry him.

The look of anger and betrayal was now worn on his face, and Shivvy couldn't hold back a sob, because unlike him, she felt she deserved his contempt. How could she ever make Daniel understand why she had betrayed his love, and her own heart? Yes Gerrard had blackmailed her by threatening to expose her brother's love for his parabatai, but it was more than that. Neither Josh nor Ian would be condemned to death for loving each other, but they would have their marks stripped and that for a shadowhunter was a fate worse than death. It went to the very essence of who and what they were.

"In that cursed ballroom, I heard them link your name with his, and I thought, no, not my Shivvy, she would not turn away from what we were to each other. She would see past the vampire, to the man underneath, she wouldn't think he was damned, and even if he was, my Shivvy would love him in spite of it." The last bit was said very quietly, almost to himself, and Shivvy's heart bled to hear it. How could she ever explain, why would he even try to understand the forces that tore her in two, when she wasn't sure she understood them herself?

"D-Daniel, it's not what you think...." Shivvy cried, stopping only when she realized that nothing she could possibly say would be adequate to this awful situation. Taking a deep breath, she called on all her strength to address him; "I can't leave, and there is nothing to be done about this devil's bargain I've made;" Daniel looked as though her words had stabbed him through the heart, and was about to argue, beg, plead anything that would alter this intolerable situation.

Shivvy placed the tip of her fingers against his lips saying; "No...don't say a word, just listen because there isn't much time. These people, the Hellfire Club, have kidnapped Aiden Lightwood. You have to get him out of here!" With those words, the girl turned toward a writing table and scribbled a hasty map of Eilean Donan. "This will help you get to him with a minimum of delay. Tell Aidan Briosag, he will be able to contact Magnus and Alec."

"S-Shivvy! You can't stay here, I won't..." Daniel began, shocked both by the girl's determination to remain, and the news of Aiden's imprisonment. He didn't know what McKenzie's hold over Shivvy was, but he knew that he would do whatever was required to break it.

"Don't, just don't! Help Aiden, that is all you can do for me now." She turned her back on the young vampire and waited until she heard the soft click of the door closing, before she sank to her knees and sobbed.


	20. Chapter 20

Daniel arrived back at the old the old manor house. He knew his time was short if he wasn't going to be missed by the Hellfire Club, but he had to tell Briosag about young Aiden and .... Shivvy. Stepping into the grand entry hall, Daniel was shocked to see several strange downworlders milling about, including some werewolves, and warlocks as well as vampires. 

"Daniel! Thank God you've arrived!"

Stepping away from the group, Daniel saw Hamish Nathrach, Aidan Briosag's second-in-command coming toward him.

"H-Hamish, what are all these people doing here?" Daniel stammered. 

Before Nathrach could respond however, double doors on the right side of the entry hall opened and Aidan Briosag walked out followed closely by Alec, Magnus and Jace. The moment Daniel saw them, he ran toward the men that had become family to him, ever since his self-imposed exile from France. They were the ones who had helped him come to terms with becoming a vampire, losing his birth family, and making a new life, and he owed them everything, including his sanity. 

Alec gathered the younger boy into a welcoming hug as Jace reached over to ruffle his hair affectionately. Daniel pulled away taking in the worry and tension in Magnus and Alec's faces, and the fact that both shadowhunters were dressed in gear and armed to the teeth. "I've seen Shivvy;" he said a look of pain flitting across his face. "She said that little Aiden is being held at the castle and gave me a map to help you find him;"

"That's good news!" Aidan Briosag replied taking the map from Daniel's hand and reviewing it with Magnus. He had not dared to hope that Daniel would be able to give them news of the child as well as Shivvy. Perhaps if the fates continued to favour them they would succeed in freeing both from Eilean Donan before dawn.

Daniel was also able to inform them of the number of Hellfire Club members in residence, confirming Briosag's impression that their best chance of freeing Shivvy and young Aiden would be to slip in undetected. He had enough support from the Edinburgh downworld to keep an escape route open as long as the full force of the Club wasn't marshalled against them. Knowing where Aiden was being held and having Daniel's knowledge of the Castle's layout meant this plan had a real chance of succeeding. A wild light danced in Aidan Briosag's gray-green eyes as he turned to those assembled in the entry hall and said; "Let's get this party started!"

Placing a hand on Alec's shoulder, as he turned to follow Briosag out of the manor, Jace whispered. "We are going to get Aiden back safely Alec, I swear by the angel;" 

Alec glanced for a moment into his parabatai's eyes seeing, courage, strength and a fierce determination written there. He nodded briefly and gave Jace a small smile that did not reach his eyes, then he moved off following Magnus out into the night.

The small group moved swiftly, the werewolves among them already changed into their feral forms. Daniel led them back along the path he had taken until they reached Eilean Donan, and helped them slip into a little used door at the base of the castle. 

Once inside, they stopped briefly, Alec and Magnus broke away from the group and followed the map Daniel provided making their way to the room that held little Aiden. Most of the rest spread themselves along the hallways, determined to provide a secure escape route for Magnus, Alec and the little boy.

Briosag looked at his second-in-command, Hamish Nathrach, and said; "Daniel and I will get Shivvy, if we are not back by the time Magnus, Alec, and the boy return, get them out safely. We will join you as soon as possible back at the manor."

"But...."

"Hamish, old friend!" Aidan interrupted. "Nothing is more important to me than the safety of Magnus and Alec's child. You know I will move heaven and earth to get out of here with Daniel and Shivvy. All I need is your promise to do the same for the others I hold dear. Swear to me!

"A-aidan... you know I will do whatever you need me to. I swear! I swear...."

"God go with you Hamish, and bless you always;" Briosag said, giving his long time friend a brief hug, before following Daniel deeper into the depths of Eilean Donan.  
As Briosag disappeared into the gloom, Hamish quietly set about placing the remaining downworlders along the escape route, making sure they all had strategic positions from which to observe the movement of servants and club members who could raise the alarm and foil this desperate rescue mission. 

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Alec moved swiftly down the dimly lit stone passage. He could feel the uneven, rough stone surface beneath him testifying to the thousands who had trod the same path over the centuries. It was a relief to finally be doing something to save his son. The last while had been a nightmare for himself and Magnus filled with fears for the safety of their precious child. At last they reached the door and a hastily applied opening rune allowed them to breach the chamber.

A blast of chartreuse magic sliced the air between Magnus and Alec causing them both to dive and roll away from each other. Alec was on his feet in an instance, seraph blade out and beginning to glow as he whispered the name, "Gabriel". 

Flashes of blue magic snapped and crackled at Magnus' fingertips as he faced the warlock who was using the terrified three year old as a shield; "D-daddy..." Aiden wailed as he wriggled trying desperately to free himself.

"Stay away, or your son is dead Bane!" Marcus Gorgon growled, inching his way toward the door, always careful to keep the boy between himself and his adversaries.

Alec knew he would only get one chance at this, and the stakes were so high. If he made the slightest miscalculation it could cost him Aiden's life, and that didn't bear thinking about. He glanced quickly at Magnus and though no words passed between them, a microscopic nod told him that the warlock understood and would follow his lead. Years of training and experience allowed Alec to let go and trust his body to do what needed to be done. The shadowhunter's movements were so fast that Magus didn't even see a blur, one moment Alec was across the room and the next he was in front of Gorgon ripping the child from the startled warlock's grasp. As soon as he had Aiden in his arms, Alec turned his back to Gorgon using his body to protect the child.

Alec felt a searing pain across his back that almost made him stumble, and then the air was crackling with magic as Magnus and Gorgon began trading shots. Alec would have given anything to turn and help his husband, but he knew that his first responsibility was to Aiden, and he headed for the door and the relative safety of the hallway.

Once outside, Alec put the little boy down and began to check him for injury. stopping only briefly when the boy asked; "Daddy, daddy where were you, I was soooo scared;"

"I-I'm sorry Aiden, we didn't know where you'd been taken; but I promise papa and I would never have stopped looking until we found you, baby;" Alec hugged the boy tightly to his chest, ignoring the pain that shot through his injured back. Holding his beloved child in his arms once again, was worth any amount of pain. The fact that little Aiden had been put through this trauma would not be forgotten, and those responsible would pay dearly, if he had any say in the matter.

Alec's senses were honed to the sounds of battle coming from inside the room. He desperately wished he could help Magnus, but would not risk letting go of Aiden even for a moment. The blasts of magic, and sounds of items shattering, ceased as suddenly as they began. Alec waited anxiously, his seraph blade drawn and Aiden behind him to see who would emerge.....


	21. Chapter 21

The seconds dragged on like hours as Alec waited in that cold dark hallway. He heard the soft whimpers of his traumatized child and ached to pick him up and hold him close, but he needed to be prepared to defend them both if Magnus failed to disarm the other warlock. Alec heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Magnus race out of the room and scoop Aiden into his arms.

Magnus would have given a great deal to be able to open a portal and get his husband and son away from this cursed place, but he knew that, even if it had been possible, the expenditure of that much magic would alert the Hellfire Club of their presence, and doom all those who had risked so much to help them. A gentle spell to put his son into a magic sleep was the best he could do at the moment to spare the child witnessing any more violence.

"The warlock?" Alec asked.

Magnus, remembering the final blasts of magic he had traded with Gorgon, replied tersely; "Dead." Before turning to follow Alec back down the hallway. Finaly registering the livid, seeping burn on his husband's back, Magnus gasped; "Alexander, your hurt!"

"It's not as bad as it looks, I'll get Jace to do an iratze. You need to save your magic. We don't know what we could be facing."

Moving swiftly now, the two retraced the steps that had led them to their precious child, praying they would be able to rejoin the others and escape the castle without alerting the bulk of the Hellfire Club.

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

"What are you doing here?!" Madeline Pyre barked as she came face to face with one of the initiates, who by rights should be unconscious on the ballroom floor, not creeping around the castle halls unescorted. Madeline's fragile beauty belied her speed and strength. She was an old and cunning vampire, perfectly capable of putting a whelp like Daniel LaCroix in his place, and enjoying herself while she did it. 

A deep visceral growl erupted from the boy's throat as he launched himself at Madeline, and the older vampire found herself in an unexpectedly defensive position against a virtual novice! She had no way of knowing Daniel had been training with the shadowhunters of the New York Institute. The boy hadn't needed years living in a dangerous world to hone his reflexes, he had Jace and Alec. But, perhaps more important still, he had acceptance, friendship, and love to motivate that powerful arsenal. 

Madeline pulled out all her tricks as she desperately tried to gain the upper hand. A little more experience and this boy would be a powerful enemy indeed. Finally she managed to pin him against the stone wall, though she suffered some serious damage doing so. Madeline's long, talon-like nails dug into the soft skin of his neck, and she smiled sweetly; "I'm going to enjoy this!"

Too late, she caught a glimmer of sparkling, black magic from the corner of her eye. Seconds later she was slammed roughly against the opposite wall and held there like a moth pinned to the bottom of a collector's glass cabinet. "Briosag!" she snarled struggling desperately to free herself.

"Madeline, what a pleasure;" Aiden said insincerity dripping from every word. "I might have known you'd be part of this depraved organization. I don't envy you trying to explain to your clan why the Clave is all over their asses looking for you;"

"Worry about your own ass Briosag it's in more danger than mine!" She snarled and then arched her neck letting out a shriek so loud Aiden thought the stone walls might crumble.

Aiden's magic flashed out again silencing her, and causing her crumple to the floor unconscious. "Come on! We have to grab Shivvy and get out, before the rest of the Club comes running!"

Even as he spoke, doors began opening on either side of the hallway emitting werewolves, vampires and shadowhunters who were part of the Hellfire Club. The two friends found themselves fighting for their lives in the narrow, confined space of the ancient castle hallway. From one doorway, however, a fierce ally emerged, Shivvy McRae. Seeing her friends embattled was all it took to send the young shadowhunter headlong into the fray. She had spent the last three years training with the likes of Jace Herondale, and Alec Lightwood, her fierce instincts took over, these were her friends, her loved ones, in trouble and nothing else mattered.

Still heavily outnumbered, the three friends used the narrowness of the hallway to their advantage, preventing anyone from circling around them to attack from behind. Aidan's black magic shot out slamming and locking doors to ensure no further club members could join their attackers. They backed inexorably to the end of the hallway Aidan shouted a brief warning to his companions, as a huge blast of magic issued from his fingers striking the walls and ceiling. Stones that had stood for over a century shook and cracked tumbling down on the heads of their enemies.

"RUN!" Aidan yelled.

Shivvy and Daniel didn't need to be told twice. The young vampire led them at break-neck speed back along the route he and Aidan had travelled. Periodically, they encountered small groups of club members who attempted to impede their progress, but were more than willing to scatter at the first hint of strong resistance.

The young shadowhunter's mind was whirling, she'd known Daniel would pass on her information regarding the whereabouts of Magnus and Alec's kidnapped son, and she assumed she was now involved in a rescue attempt. There was nothing else she could have done, when she saw Daniel and Aidan fighting for their lives, but what would this mean for her brother Ian? She'd promised to marry Gerard McKenzie to ensure Ian's love for his parabatai Josh Cameron remained a secret. That plan was now in ruins, and she could only pray there would still be something she could still do to protect Ian.

The sound of falling stones and screaming died away as they put distance between themselves and the club members who had attacked them in the hallway. Gradually, however, those noises were replaced by the sounds of battle up ahead, the clash of steal, the blast of magic, shouts of anger, and the feral growl of angry wolves rent the air. There could be no doubt now that any chance of slipping out of the castle undetected was over, and the three friends hurried on toward whatever fate awaited them. 

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

The two women occupied the same dark, brooding space. Tension snapping between them like a taunt rope at the point of failure. Isabelle paced back and forth, back and forth, her mother, Maryse, perhaps more used to life's challenges, erect and still, sitting in a chair waiting for the inevitable. A fitful fire was the only light in the room, neither woman had bothered turning on a lamp to relieve the gloom, as if it might shed unwanted light on the terrible decision they would have to make. Isabelle glared at the telephone on the desk at each turn back into the room, as if it was to blame for Alec's failure to call, and tell her all was well, Aiden had been rescued and they were on their way home.

"Isabelle!" Maryse voice rang out, shattering the heavy silence. "We have to call the Clave. If Alec was able to contact us, he would have done so by now. We must act or there will be no one left to save!"

"Mother, you know what the Clave may do to Magnus and Alec if they find out about Aiden!" Isabelle replied, her voice choked with emotion. 

"Don't! Isabelle, I know the law, and I know that the Clave has not always been merciful, but if we do nothing... w-when they are in mortal danger... I would rather trust to the Clave than bury my son, and grandson because I did not act."

Isabelle stopped mid-stride; "Promise me!" she demanded looking steadfastly at the other woman. "Promise me that, if we do this, you will fight the Clave, if necessary to protect them; Magnus too!" she added, as if afraid that her mother's efforts might fall short of including the downworlder who was the love of Alec's life.

"By the angel, Isabelle, I swear;"


	22. Chapter 22

Bursting into an open area at the end of the hallway, Aidan Briosag was confronted by a hellacious scene. The Hellfire Club, alerted to the presence of their enemies, and led by the greater demon Balial, had trapped the small rescue party against an ancient stone wall, blocking any chance of escape. Briosag raced forward his feet slipping on the stone floor now slick with the blood of friend and foe alike. He was followed into the fray by Daniel and Shivvy.

The sudden, unexpected attack of Aidan and his companions caused a slight shift in the battle, although they were still heavily outnumbered. Balial turned away from Magnus to focus his demonic energy on Briosag, giving the other warlock a much needed reprieve. The demon made a serious mistake in assuming that Magnus was now so drained he posed no further threat. While Balial and Briosag traded lethal blasts of magic, and the air filled with the stench of sulfur and rotting flesh, Magnus, his face etched with fatigue summoned his last reserves of strength and began to burn runes into the ancient stone floor. He would send Balial back to the demon dimension from whence he'd been summoned, or die in the attempt.

Shivvy and Daniel threw themselves into battle beside Alec and the others, as they desperately tried to buy Magnus time to complete his efforts. If they could not eliminate Balial from the battle, all would be lost. 

Also understanding Magnus' intentions, Aidan Briosag redoubled his efforts to push Balial back into the waiting protective circle. It was dangerous, however to be in such close combat with a deadly enemy, and the warlock narrowly missed a blast of magic that seared across his left shoulder. Every inch that the unsuspecting demon took backward towards Magnus was a costly victory for Briosag who prayed his magic would hold out long enough to get the job done.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Aidan caught a flash of dark green and smiled to himself. Morag Nightshade had arrived and was making a move to slip away with Magnus and Alec's son, while the Hellfire club was distracted. It was not possible to create a portal within the keep itself, but if she could get the boy out without attracting attention, she would be able to portal him to safety. Aidan had met the warlock healer through Magnus, and they had become close. Morag had recently left her home in London, to join Aidan in Edinburgh. Their relationship added a richness to his life that he'd never thought was an option, during the terrible years when the Edinburgh downworld existed in secret to protect itself from the Scottish shadowhunters. 

Magnus and Alec had spoken to Aidan privately before the rescue mission, and the High Warlock of Edinburgh set plans in motion to care for the child in the event his parents did not survive. An altercation of this magnitude between shadowhunters and downworlders would not go unnoticed, and if Gerrard McKenzie won the day, who knew what spin he would put on it. Any of Aidan's downworlders who survived would likely find themselves imprisoned, or worse, for attacking an upstanding member of the Clave; and, for his own safety, the child would have to disappear. Even Alec's family would not be able to protect him. Saying a silent pray for Morag and the boy, Aidan turned his full attention back to the task at hand. Gerrard McKenzie and the Hellfire Club would not win this day if he had any say in the matter.

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Morag Nightshade carried the sleeping child in her arms as she slipped noiselessly through the darkened hallway. A healer by trade, she had no gift for fighting, and yet as she held the small, warm body of the boy close to her, she understood the fierce protectiveness that mothers felt for their children, and that could turn them into formidable opponents, if those children were threatened. 

Moving quickly, Morag passed several oak doors set deeply into the stone walls. Suddenly, up ahead, she heard the heavy tread of booted feet and shrank into the nearest doorway hoping her glamour, and the dark shadows would be enough to hide her and the boy form sight. As she held her breath, a small cadre of shadowhunters, in full gear, ran past. Were they Club members, or had the Clave been summoned? Either way, Morag knew that she had to get the child to a place of safety; that the boy might be in as much danger from the Clave as he was from the Hellfire club was not lost on her. 

A few years ago, Magnus had used an illicit spell to allow his evil, half-sister Lucia to bear a child. Morag knew full well Magnus would never have agreed to the transaction had Lucia not kidnapped and threatened to kill Alec. At the last second, Magnus substituted his own DNA for Lucia's, creating a child that was truly his own and Alec's, the child that was now nestled protectively in her arms as she raced desperately to get out of the castle.

Only once in recorded history had there been another child of a runed shadowhunter and a warlock begotten through the use of forbidden blood magic. The baby and the warlock had been killed by the Clave. The shadowhunter had been stripped of her marks, and died shortly after. A shudder ran through Morag's body as she thought about what this discovery might mean for Magnus and his precious family. Gripping young Aiden firmly against her heaving chest, she burst out of a small wooden door at the base of the castle wall. Now she would be able to create a portal.

Morag shifted the boy to one arm and loosed the swirling magic that would take her first to Edinburgh, to collect some of her things, and then to some unknown place where she could hide the child and await the unfolding of events. Just as she had run headlong through the corridors of Eilean Donan, she now seemed to be rushing headlong into an uncertain future. Would either Alec or Magnus survive the battle with the Hellfire Club? And if they did, what about the Clave? Her thoughts also strayed to her beloved, Aidan Briosag whom she had left fighting by Magnus' side. If the Clave knew about the child's origins, she could not risk staying in Edinburgh and bringing their wrath down on Aidan's downworlders.


	23. Chapter 23

Alec and Jace fought side by side, seraph blades blazing, their small group of allies already heavily outnumbered had been further depleted by injury and death. Magnus and Aidan were doing everything in their power to draw Balial's hellfire away from the others and send the demon back to Edom where he belonged. Out of the corner of his eye, Alec saw Aidan's friend Hamish overwhelmed by four fully transformed werewolves. Dropping his seraph blade, he grabbed his bow and loosed two arrows in quick succession felling two of the attacking werewolves. It was all Alec could do for Hamish and he prayed it was enough. Suddenly, a cry of rage tore from the shadowhunter's throat as he saw Gerard McKenzie join the battle. This was the man responsible for kidnapping his son and placing his entire family at risk. Jace found himself in the unusual position of having to watch Alec's back as his parabatai threw himself headlong at McKenzie. It was a brutal battle between two skilled warriors, neither one willing to give an inch. 

Madeline Pyre recovered from her earlier run in with Aidan Briosag, had only one second to revise her estimate of Daniel LaCroix before he ended her long, undead existence. There was little time to savour the victory, however, as more club members joined the battle, pushing the small group of allies to their limits.

Suddenly a terrible roar rent the air, followed by billowing black smoke that seemed to blind the combatants as it stole the breath from their bodies, and the sense from their minds. As the smoke cleared, Alec could see the terrible scorch marks left by Balial as he was finally sent back to his hellish home. Desperately Alec scanned the area for Magnus, not even daring to breathe until his eyes found the warlock's form slumped and vulnerable near the ruined pentagram. 

"Go!" Jace yelled as he stepped into Alec's fight with McKenzie. 

Alec did not need to be told twice, as he slashed and fought his way toward Magnus' exposed position. Just as he reached the warlock, a number of heavily armed shadowhunters arrived, joining the battle against the Hellfire Club. The tide had turned, and gradually the fighting ceased as more and more club members dropped their weapons, trying to escape the castle rather than be captured by the Clave. Alec noticed none of it, his attention focused completely on Magnus who he held protectively in his arms. 

More and more shadowhunters entered the room and secured the remaining Hellfire Club members. At last, once some semblance of order was re-established Jia Penhallow arrived, followed by a grim looking Maryse Lightwood. Alec, who had remained by Magnus side, rose to greet her.

"Consul Penhallow..."

"Alexander Lightwood, I am suspending you from your duties as Head of the new York Institute. You are to be taken to Idris for trial. Sed lex dura lex;" 

At her words, two burly shadowhunters stepped forward to secure Alec. His seraph blade and stele were removed. Not a word passed Alec's lips, he knew the secret of his child's birth was now known, and he knew the law would deal harshly with him and Magnus. At the thought of his husband, Alec turned sharply, almost breaking away from his captors as he watched the warlock struggle to stand.

"Magnus Bane, in accordance with the law, you too are to be taken to Idris for trial. The Warlock Representative on the Counsel has been apprised of this;" Jia's voice rang out again and two more shadowhunter stepped up to escort the exhausted warlock out of the castle. 

Aidan Briosag, with Jace Herondale hot on his heels approach Jia Penhallow. "What nonsense is this? He demanded a scowl darkening his handsome face. "I have no issue with you arresting members of the Hellfire Club, God knows they've earned it. But this! Aidan looked as if he was ready to do battle again, this time for Alec and Magnus' freedom and Jace was going to be right at his side.

"High Warlock;" Jia Penhallow said with a quiet authority, refusing to be intimidated by the angry man. "As you are no doubt aware this has to do with the theft and use of illicit magic. I did not create the law, but I am honour bound to enforce it. Magnus Bane will be tried in the Court of Assize and if found guilty, punished accordingly. If you know anything about the child, Aiden Lightwood-Bane, especially his whereabouts I suggest you tell me."

Aidan Briosag knew a little about the Court of Assize, which had been established after the Accords to provide a platform where serious legal matters that crossed shadow world boundaries could be settled. He had been present at the first trial which had taken place in New Orleans with Magnus as the defendant, ironically enough. It hadn't been called the Court of Assize at that time, and Aidan was sure the whole process was much better defined now, but he would still not want to trust his freedom or his life to it. There was cold steel in Aidan's gray-green eyes as he replied to Jia Penhallow; "I swear I will do everything in my power to ensure that child remains hidden, until his fathers are free to raise him again. You have my word on it!"

"You could be doing serious damage to the Accords with that attitude, High Warlock;" Jia said coldly.

"The only thing that will seriously hurt the Accords Consul;" Aidan responded; "Is if you allow this to become a witch trial."

Before the argument could devolve further one of the Edinburgh downworlders interrupted Aidan to let him know that his long time friend Hamish had succumbed to injuries received during the battle. The High Warlock of Edinburgh let out an anguished cry at the news. With great effort he gathered himself before turning once again to Jia Penhallow. "You have one chance to get this right Consul, we will be watching;" And with that he stalked away.

Jace who had been silent throughout this exchange, turned on Maryse who stood beside Jia and hissed angrily; " Are you going to just stand there and let them do this? We are talking about your son and grandson! Have you nothing to say!?"

Maryse looked stricken as she reached out a hand, but dropped it again when Jace whirled on his heal and stepped into line as Magnus and Alec were escorted from the room. What was she going to do? How could she fix this? At the Institute with Isabelle, saving Alec and Aiden's lives were all that had mattered. She knew, of course, that the discovery of her grandson's true origins would be problematic. The old laws, created when downworlders were considered little better than demons, were still on the books, but surely they wouldn't be invoked. The Accords were in place, things were different now, but were they really? Jia had insisted she couldn't circumvent the law, even if it was unjust. The challenge had to come from the Courts. 

Maryse found herself struggling for the self-control that had always come easily to her when she was younger, when things had seemed so much more clear cut. A small part of her still longed for the days when she had been so sure, but the truth was, that very need had made her an easy target for Valentine's Circle. My God, what a fool she'd had been, what fools they'd all been, seeing what was easy, not what was real. Maryse couldn't change the past, though she'd long since learned to be ashamed of her part in it, but she'd be damned if she saw the past repeated because no one stood up for what was right. This was her family, in all its wonderful diversity she was fighting for.

The last of the Hellfire Club members were now being escorted from the room and Maryse, overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness and frustration stopped the shadowhunters who flanked Gerard McKenzie. She glared at the former Head of the Edinburgh Institute. Before anyone could react she stepped forward and gave McKenzie a vicious slap across the face that had his head snapping back with the force of it. 

Shocked by what had just occurred Jia Penhallow abruptly pulled her friend away and remonstrating; "This isn't helping anything, Maryse;"

"Maybe not, but I feel better;" Maryse said grimly.

The two women watched as the guards removed McKenzie from the room. He would have his day in court, and Maryse hoped the full weight of the law would be brought to bear against him. It wouldn't be enough, not nearly enough for what he had done to her family, but it would be a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be away for the weekend so I am posting this chapter early.


	24. Chapter 24

Alexander Gideon Lightwood paced the length of his mother's flat in Alicante. He was under house arrest, and could not leave the warded dwelling unless accompanied by an appointed member of the Clave. Whenever his troubled mind could shift from thoughts of Magnus imprisoned in the Gard, and his precious son in hiding, he wondered how Hodge Starkweather had dealt with his long term imprisonment in the New York Institute, without going mad? 

He supposed bad as he currently felt, it was better than those few horrible minutes at Eilean Donan, when the Clave had been looking for Morag and his son. The fact that they found no bodies in or near the castle meant bolstered his belief that the healer had gotten Aiden to safety. Alec expected no communication from Morag, it would not be safe until the Clave determined his and Magnus' fate. 

He knew his mother was currently meeting with the Council, trying to get information on what exactly he and Magnus would be facing. The old laws were still in place and if the Clave insisted on enforcing them, Alec knew he would be stripped of his marks, Magnus would be executed , and little Aiden would be condemned to live a secret life. A soft sob broke from Alec as he paced the long, beautifully appointed great room in his mother's flat.

In other circumstances he might have been amused by the fact that there was so much the feel of a New York loft about his mother's place. The high ceilings, soaring windows and hardwood floors gave the flat it's light, sophisticated feeling. A black baby grand piano sat next to the large cast stone fire place, waiting for Jace to fill the room with the music he loved. Framed photographs of Alec, Isabelle, Jace and Max sat on occasional tables, and hung on the exposed brick walls. Although New York had originally been a place of exile for Maryse, it was obvious that it had eventually become home.

The noise of several people entering the flat broke into Alec's gloomy thoughts and he looked up to see his mother, Jace and Isabelle arriving from the Gard. Izzy threw her arms around Alec, hugging him tightly. He knew she blamed herself for his current predicament, but the truth was that he and Magnus might be dead if she hadn't let Maryse call in the cavalry. "It's alright, Iz;" Alec whispered softly in her ear as he hugged her back.

"No, it isn't! But we are going to fight until we get justice for you and Magnus!" She replied fiercely. "I mean it Alec, nothing matters until you, Magnus and Aiden are back at the Institute." There was something comforting in the fierceness of Isabelle's pronouncement. She had the gift of making others believe they had a fighting chance, even if the deck was stacked against them. 

Maryse had moved to the kitchen area of the open concept space and was busy preparing a quick lunch for them all. She suspected that Alec had gotten very little sleep the night before, and had probably not bothered to eat this morning. He would need to keep his strength up to deal with the situation before him, and she intended to make sure he did. In short order, she brought a tray of sandwiches and drinks to the coffee table and indicated to her children they should take seats and dig in. There was a lot to discuss, but she'd wait until they'd had their food before bringing them up to speed on the Council meeting she'd attended. 

Once everyone was settled, Maryse began; "A date has been set for Magnus' trial. It will begin a week from tomorrow;"

"No!" Alec interrupted. "They can't be serious about upholding those ancient, awful laws!"

"Alexander, I'm sorry;" Maryse said; "I tried to convince the Council the laws were unjust and needed to be changed, but they insisted their hands were tied and that the Court alone could bring such a challenge. Even the warlock representative, Felicia Phantom sided with them." The look on Maryse's face told her children just how disgusted she was by the failure of the Council in general, and Felicia in particular, to take action."

"She hates Magnus;" Alec said his tone indicating he expected no help from that quarter. Jace shot him a questioning look, but as Alec showed no sign of adding to his statement, Jace let it drop. There were more important issues before them.  
An awkward silence fell over the family, no one seemed to know what to say or how to begin this difficult conversation. At last Izzy spoke up; "Will they get Luke to be Chief Justice again?"

"Oh, no;" Maryse replied quickly, realizing with shock that her children's only understanding of the judicial process was limited to that horrible business in New Orleans when Magnus had been wrongly accused of Alexander's murder. "The Court of Assize was set up and formalized several years ago to deal with serious legal matters that arise in the shadow world. Justices and advocates are carefully selected by the Council and specially trained to deal with such trials, the outcomes of which are binding on the entire shadow world."

"S-so Magnus will need one of these specially trained advocates?" Alec asked.

"Yes;" Maryse responded, adding; "I have the names of three who are currently in Alicante, I am expecting fire messages from them to say whether they are available."  
At that moment, as if on cue, a fire message arrived from one of the advocates. Maryse scanned it quickly, a frown marring her face as she crumpled it up. There were still two others to hear from, and she wasn't going to let one refusal upset her. Unwillingly, however, her mind drifted to the nasty comments that had reached her ears as she walked to the Gard each morning. Narrow, bigoted comments about half-demon warlocks who should never be allowed to breed, and suspect shadowhunters who chose to cohabit with downworlders. Maryse wanted to believe that the majority of shadowhunters did not share those views, but this was Alicante, downworlders were thin on the ground here and often looked on with suspicion merely because they were different. To her great shame, Maryse knew that she herself had been guilty of the same prejudices. Enflamed by the exclusive world view of Valentine Morgenstern and his Circle. And she knew just what such terrible thoughts and feelings, translated into actions, could cost. Maryse schooled her features, she did not want to add to Alec's burden by expressing those concerns at the moment, even if just by the look on her face. 

Marsye continued to describe the Court of Assize to her family. In some ways it was similar to the original court that had tried Magnus in New Orleans, with a panel of five Justices, one of which would be the Chief Justice and tie-breaker in the event a consensus could not be reached, and two advocates, one who represented the accused, and one who represented the Shadow world. The body of law covered by the Court included Clave, Fae, Coven, Clan and Pack. It was intended to deal only with serious crimes that involved more than one group in the Shadow world, and the punishment handed down would be determined by the laws of those wronged by the action. In this case Magnus was accused of the theft and use of an illicit spell that had been in the possession of the Silent Brothers, and would be subject to Clave law if found guilty.

"What about Gerrard McKenzie?" Jace demanded, still furious about the kidnapping of Aiden and all that had followed that horrible act.

"He will also be tried in the Court of Assize;" Maryse replied. "I believe in his case, he will be subject to Coven law for the kidnapping and Clave law for his activities with the Hellfire Club;"

"Why Coven law for taking Aiden? He's as much shadowhunter as he is warlock? Jace asked sharply, more than ready to take offence on his nephew's behalf. 

"I'm sure Coven law will deal just as harshly with McKenzie as Clave law would;" Maryse responded, not wishing to deal with the reality that she wasn't sure how Aiden would be viewed by the Clave, considering the old laws that were still on the books. The Coven had indicated they would treat the matter in the same light as someone who kidnapped a warlock's apprentice. A very serious crime under Coven law.

The arrival of two more fire messages in quick succession interrupted all further discussion. Maryse reviewed them quickly, two more rejections! What on earth was she going to do now? She looked up quickly, seeing the expectant looks on her children's faces and her heart sank. A brisk knock on the flat's door signalled a last minute reprieve for Maryse as she rose to answer it, a slight frown on her face. No one who wasn't already there was expected, and unsolicited visitor were unusual.

Maryse opened the large oak door and was surprised to see a beautifully dressed fairy standing there. He had long, straight, black hair, and arresting silver eyes set in perfectly chiselled features. His physique, was long and lean, much taller than the average fairy. He wore an elegant suit, which, if Magnus had been there, Maryse would have been told was Armani. 

"Can I help you?" The shadowhunter asked somewhat sternly.

"Are you Maryse Lightwood? He asked, seemingly taking no notice of her less than friendly tone.

"Yes." The Maryse replied crisply, still waiting for the fairy to state his business and go.

" Excellent! My name is Asher and I am Magnus Bane's new Advocate." A slight smile spread across his beautiful features as he saw a brief look of shock on the woman's face.


	25. Chapter 25

Magnus Bane woke from a fitful, restless sleep. It took him a few desperate moments to remember where he was, and with that memory all the horror of the last few days came rushing back. Aiden's kidnapping, the fight with the Hellfire Club, and his arrest by the Clave for the theft and use of an illicit spell. Magnus closed his eyes, but he knew there would be no more sleep for him and it wasn't because of the thin, lumpy mattress on the narrow cot, or the threadbare blanket that didn't do much to counter the cold dampness of the cell.

The warlock's eyes swept around the small room, taking in the thick stone walls, and single tiny, barred window. He wondered idly if this was where the Clave had held Simon Lewis when Valentine was threatening Alicante? He hoped he would be as fortunate in the outcome as the vampire had been. Magnus knew the cell was warded against the use of magic, so, just like Simon, any rescue would have to come from the outside, either through a successful defense in court, or a jail break, and at the moment he would take either. There was nothing he could do for Alec or Aiden stuck in a cell under the Gard.

In the short time he had been imprisoned here, Magnus had grown to hate the small space. There was nothing here to distract him from thoughts of his beloved Alexander facing perhaps the worst fate that could befall a shadowhunter, the stripping of his angelic runes. None of this was Alec's fault, he hadn't signed any blood oath. All he was guilty of was protecting a precious, innocent child, surely the Clave wouldn't punish him for that? But Magnus knew, even as the thought crossed his mind, it wasn't that simple.

The very existence of Aiden, the son of a warlock and a marked shadowhunter would cause consternation among many groups in the shadow world. Warlocks were powerful magically, the offspring of a demon and a mundane, but relatively thin on the ground due to the fact they were sterile and could not, in the normal course of things, have children. Historically, the Clave viewed warlocks as half-breed demons who couldn't be trusted, and considered their relatively small numbers a blessing. It was why they'd decreed that spell Magnus used illegal, and hidden it with the Silent Brothers. The Accords might have eased things between the Clave and the downworld, but there were still quite a few shadowhunters, especially in Idris, who clung to the old beliefs. 

And, if Magnus was being honest, it wasn't just shadowhunters that viewed warlocks with distrust. The Fae also had a longstanding contentious relationship with the children of Lilith. Fairies were contemptuous of the fact that warlocks did magic for money, and whether it was because, having magic themselves, they hated to pay for magic they couldn't do, or some other deeper discontent, he didn't know. The few times Magnus had been called to the Seelie Court, he was quite aware of his hosts' dislike. They seemed to view warlocks as, at best, a necessary evil, and at worst an unnecessary one.

The sound of someone approaching his cell interrupted Magnus thoughts. A guard had brought him his supper. The small amount of light that came through the cell window meant that, without the ritual of meal times, Magnus wasn't sure what time of day it was. The food that was brought to him was actually quite good, if Magnus had had any appetite to eat it. He wondered idly if this was the typical fare for prisoners, or if he was being given special consideration? 

The Guard stopped, just outside the cell door and slipped a tray through the slot provided. He was an older man, heavy set and powerful. His skin bore the traces of angelic runes applied over many years. 

"Thank you;" Magnus said softly, his manners a habit so ingrained that even a shadowhunter prison cell could not completely subdue them. Truly, the warlock had no appetite and wished the man would just leave him to his dismal thoughts, but no such luck.

"The Inquisitor told be to let you know your advocate will be visiting in the morning;" The man said gruffly. 

"My advocate?" Magnus replied startled by this unexpected news. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, he knew he needed an advocate, but had presumed he would be allowed to select his own, not have one appointed. "Who is it?"

The guard, whose name was Jessie Bradshaw looked sharply at Magnus before replying; "Some fairy, name of Asher I think. Anyway, he'll be here in the morning so you'll find out then." The shadowhunter continued to stand there for a few minutes more staring at the prisoner. He had never had much to do with warlocks, and this one was apparently pretty famous, well infamous maybe. Married to a Lightwood, God how had that happened? Bradshaw tipped his head to the side considering the man in front of him. The warlock was tall, but slender and really didn't look terribly dangerous from Jessie perspective. Still, it was just as well the warded bars of the cell stood between them. No telling what tricks the man would try to pull else.

"Was there something else?" Magnus asked sharply. The guard's continued silent observation beginning to fray his already anxious temper.

"You were on the Council once, weren't you?" The guard's question seemed to be rhetorical though because he continued; "I guess it's true what they say, you can't trust a warlock."

A flash of anger pulsed through Magnus body. He had been working to help bring about the Accords since before this man was even born. "Funny, how it's always 'they' who are responsible for our own bigoted opinions!" Magnus turned on his heel and went back to the cot, ignoring both his meal and the guard until the man moved off down the ancient stone hallway.

~~~~~ !!!!! ~~~~~

Maryse Lightwood took an involuntary step back, allowing the elegant fairy to brush past her and enter the flat. "B-but..." Maryse stammered uncharacteristically unable to take command of this extraordinary situation. 

"You do require an advocate for Magnus Bane don't you? Or have I been misinformed?" Asher demanded, one eyebrow raised, and a hint of amusement in his tone.

Maryse had been upset by the responses from the advocates she'd contacted, and unsure about her next course of action, but to have a stranger, unsolicited, come to her door and declare himself Magnus' advocate was more than she could manage at the moment. "Y-yes, but..." Maryse began again, before being interrupted by her visitor.

"Excellent! I assume, you've already received refusals from all the other available advocates, so shall we get to work. Perhaps you'd start by introducing me to your friends? family?"

Before anyone else could respond, Alec rose from the chair he'd been seated in and approached the fairy. "I'm Alexander Lightwood-Bane;" he said. Alec rarely used his full name, but when he did, it was always with a sense of pride, of acknowledgement of his husband, and family. 

"Of course you are;" Asher said, an appreciative smile crossing his handsome face as looked Alec up and down. "High Warlock Bane certainly has an eye for handsome men;"

A look of fury swept across the shadowhunter's face. His beloved Magnus was facing a possible death sentence, and this idiot thought it appropriate to flirt! Alec had been stressed out since Aiden's kidnapping, and was now finding even minor issues brought him to the brink of losing it. Needing some time to compose himself, the shadowhunter turned on his heel and stalked from the room.

"Nice going Advocate. Do you impress all your prospective clients like that?" Jace asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Izzy rose from her seat, preparing to go after Alec, when a sign from Maryse stopped her cold. 

Maryse looked sternly at the Advocate; "I think we should focus on the rather pressing business of Magnus' trial, don't you?" The fairy recognized it was a rhetorical question and confined himself to a brief nod before Maryse continued; "I will talk to Alexander, you two;" She said indicating Izzy and Jace; "Answer any questions Advocate Asher may have." With that she turned and left the room in search of her eldest son.

Looking completely unruffled by the awkward exchange, the fairy turned to Jace and Izzy, and asked; "Sooo, exactly what part did you play in this mess?"


	26. Chapter 26

Gerard McKenzie paced the length of the small stone cell under the Gard where he was being held pending his trial at the Court of Assize. Waves of tension and barely contained fury radiated off the man. How had things come to this, all his work, all his planning and effort ruined by a half-breed demon and disgrace of a shadowhunter. There was nothing he could do now to retrieve the situation, to prevent the public humiliation of a trial, as far as Gerard was concerned his failure was not due to what he'd done, but to the fact that he'd been caught. Mckenzie believed there were many shadowhunters who secretly agreed with his beliefs, but lacked the courage to live on the edge, as he had. Head of the Edinburgh Institute, Abbot of the Hellfire Club, he'd been a force to be reckoned with. He spanned worlds, angel, demon, mundane, downworld, and he'd had a good time doing it.

Well, maybe there was nothing McKenzie could do to salvage his own situation, but he was going to make damn sure he did everything in his power to destroy as many of his enemies as he could. Magnus Bane was in a cell waiting trial, Alexander Lightwood would likely be stripped of his marks and exiled, but there were others that Gerard wanted to punish, and he would not be content until each and every one of them felt some of his pain. Chief among these was Shivaun McRae, the wretched girl who, instead of being grateful for the honour he'd intended to do her, had conspired with his enemies. His resolution made, McKenzie strode to the cell door and called for the guard.

Jessie Bradshaw moved reluctantly over to the cell; "What do you want? He asked, irritation clear in his abrupt tone. If there was anything that disturbed Jessie more than downworlders, it was shadowhunters who had gone wrong, and everything he'd heard about this one told him, McKenzie had gone very wrong indeed!

"Tell Consul Penhallow I wish to see her, I have some information she'll want. Oh, and bring me writing material I have some correspondence to attend to."

"Arrogant sod!" Jessie muttered under his breath; "You'd think this was a palace and I was his valet, not his prison guard." Bradshaw would take his sweet time doing McKenzie's bidding. Funny, Jessie thought, his other prisoner, the warlock, was far less trouble and much more polite. He had to admit, though it surprised him, he felt some sympathy for Magnus Bane. Jessie had grown children of his own and a grandchild on the way. He couldn't imagine how desolate his life would have been without children. If he was honest, he would have done a great deal to help his wife if she'd had difficulty conceiving, maybe even break Clave law if that's what it took. 'Sed lex dura lex' the law is harsh, but it is the law, was the motto he'd lived his life by, believing that as a shadowhunter he had to hold himself to a very high standard. Still, who was any of this effort for, if not the children, to make things safer, better? Would he have been as willing to dedicate his life to this hard, demanding vocation if he hadn't been allowed to have a child of his own? Shaking his head, Jessie moved down the long, dark hallway. There didn't seem to be any answers to these perplexing questions.

~~~~!!!!!~~~~

A few hours later....

Robert Lightwood paced the width of Consul Jia Penhallow's office, a note clenched tightly in his right hand. "I can't believe this! How dare he make such accusations! The angry shadowhunter snarled coming to a stop in front the cluttered desk. 

"I understand;" Jia said gently. Despite being slightly past his prime, Robert was still an imposing figure, especially when angry, as he was now. "I don't like this any more than you do;" she added.

"Then why are you dignifying it with a response, never mind an investigation?" Robert demanded. "Josh Cameron and Ian McRae are two very promising young shadowhunters who do not deserve to have the likes of Gerard McKenzie taint their future!" Not to mention that Alec didn't need any more stress than he was already under. 

Jia sighed heavily; "Robert, please sit down. I'm between a rock and a hard place here. Idris is rife with rumours and suspicions right now. Accusations are being made that the Clave has lost control of the Institutes, that at best, we don't know what is going on, and at worst turn a blind eye to infractions. People are asking how we could not have known what was going on in Edinburgh, and see Magnus Bane as a corrupting influence in New York. I have to take these allegations seriously, and as such I am instructing you, as Inquisitor to investigate. How you go about this is up to you, but I expect a full report."

"Mark my words Jia, this is nothing but a witch hunt!" Robert said as he left the Counsul's office, more troubled in his mind than when he'd entered it a scant hour earlier. Jia had left the investigation up to him, and somehow he had to make sure that no more innocent people were hurt by Gerard McKenzie.

Robert rubbed his arm where the faint remnants of a parabatai rune remained. He had long felt regret over his treatment of Michael Wayland all those years ago, when the young man had confessed his love for Robert. They'd been the best of friends, Michael was the only one who saw Robert, and accepted him as he truly was, and Robert had repaid him with anger and rejection. He been so afraid of not fitting in, of what others would say that he'd pushed away perhaps his only true friend, unwilling to believe that Michael didn't expect anything from him. Robert carried that guilt with him always, and it had made him awkward and unsupportive when Alec first admitted his love for Magnus.

Jia had left the matter of investigating the allegations that Josh Cameron and Ian McRae had an inappropriate relationship. He would find a way to do his job without harming the two young shadowhunter, he had to, he owed it to Michael, and Alec.

~~~~~!!!!!~~~~~

On the northern coast of Ireland sat a small cottage. In many respects, it was the quintessential dwelling of its type, with whitewashed walls, a thatched roof and bright red door, but that's where its conformity ended. The main body of the cottage was a six sided, two story tower-like structure, with a small lean-to on one side. The windows were gothic in shape with pointed arches at the top, and the thatched roof, that sat over the squat tower, looked like a great witch's hat. The cottage sat among beautiful, rolling hills overlooking an inlet that led out to the Atlantic ocean. It was rugged, picturesque and isolated, the perfect place to hide.

On the old, stone porch sat a young woman and a little boy. Morag Nightshade had owned this cottage for many years. It was her sanctuary, her bolt hole, and she had run here with little Aiden to await the outcome of the terrible events at Eilean Donan. 

Every day, Aiden asked for his papa and his daddy, every night the little boy woke screaming from the nightmares that plagued him. The child had no appetite and it took Morag a great deal of coaxing at every meal to get a little bit of food into him. Worried as she was for the child, it was the waiting that was excruciating. The healer could not promise Aiden what was beyond her power to deliver, and was afraid that any attempt to reach out for news might alert the wrong people of their whereabouts.  
Still as the days passed, Morag's need to get answers increased exponentially. She had to risk some communication, and at last settled on sending an innocuous message through the healers network to Catarina Loss. She would couch it as a medical inquiry  
and pray that it aroused no suspicion. That decided, she grabbed Aiden's hand and took him into the cottage. "Come on, my love;" She cooed; "Time for a nice hot chocolate, Aunty Morag has a letter to write, and then we'll have a story by the fire;"

The child looked at her, a small sad smile playing on his innocent face, and allowed her to lead him inside.


	27. Chapter 27

It was a dark, moonless night and all the inhabitants of the ancient castle, Eilean Donan, were sleeping soundly in their beds, all but two. The larger, more powerfully built of the men sat behind Gerard McKenzie's desk and methodically searched through the drawers. At last, he pulled out a deck of cards, the Devil's Tarot that McKenzie had used to determine his future with Shivaun McRae.

Vladimir Druganin laughed, a cold, hollow sound, as he placed the cards on top of the desk. His companion, who had been perusing the books that filled the shelves on one side of the room, looked over and asked; "What have you got there Vlad?"

"Just more proof of what a fool McKenzie was;" He stated, holding up the deck of card so his friend could see them, and baring his fangs in disgust.

"How bad is it?" The tall, thin man asked Druganin.

"Well, it appears that McKenzie wasn't stupid enough to leave anything about the club here for the Clave to find, but other than that, it is about as bad as you'd expect. I will have to re-assume the position of Abbot, and I expect you to be my Circuitor again." The vampire looked sternly at his companion, as if daring him to refuse.

A small, cruel smile graced Dante Serpens' narrow face as the warlock gave his old friend a brief nod of acceptance. He and Vlad had met centuries ago when Serpens was High Warlock of St. Petersburg, and Druganin had been working to unite the vampire clans of Eastern Europe. Both were, powerful, ruthless men, but they had somehow become friends, joining forces to confound their enemies, and the Clave. 

Vladimir Druganin was a founding member of the Hellfire Club and had served as Abbot for many years, bringing in Serpens to act as Circuitor during that time. Druganin viewed the club very differently than any of the succeeding Abbots, including McKenzie, had. He did not care about the illicit, exotic pleasures it offered members, he was only interested in the information that could been gleaned from the wide, disparate membership. Surprising how indiscrete people could be when they were partying. He also enjoyed the secret nature of the club, it was a destabilizing influence between the downworld groups and the Clave. As Abbot, Druganin had welcomed the first shadowhunters to the club, and was initially very pleased when Gerard McKennzie had been appointed Abbot. Shadowhunters who were also club members tended to have divided loyalties, and that was a weakness Druganin knew how to exploit. 

Dante Serpens looked closely at his old friend, taking in the long, straight black hair, chiseled features, and sharp, glittering black eyes. Druganin was not an easy man to read, but the presence of a small, gold ring, set with a beautiful ruby, on the small finger of his left hand told the warlock some of what he wanted to know. The last time he'd seen that ring it graced the hand of Madeline Pyre. She had become close to Druganin over the last several decades, but Serpens was not sure what the status of that relationship had been. Vladimir Druganin told people only what was necessary to do their jobs, and no one needed to know about his personal life. Still, the presence of the ring was telling, and Serpens would not want to be Gerard McKenzie if the Vampire chose to avenge Madeline's death. "So;" The warlock said, breaking the silence that had grown between them; What are the plans?"

Druganin took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he focused on the most pressing issues facing the club. He had enjoyed his time as Abbot Emeritus, still able to glean as much information as the club could offer, without the responsibility of the day-to-day administration. Now he was forced to take a more active role, or face the possibility that the Hellfire Club would be disbanded. "The way I see it, there are two pressing matters that need to be resolved. First, Gerard McKenzie must be dealt with. He is a shadowhunter and if put to the soul sword, no club secret will be safe. Secondly, we have to deal with the curatio situation. The child must be procured by whatever means necessary."

"What about the other club members who were swept up in the debacle here?" Serpens asked.

"Gorgon, Blackwell, Gray, and M-Madeline were killed in the battle, the other club members don't know enough to be any danger to us;" Druganin replied, stumbling a little over Madeline's name. It was the only sign that she'd meant more to him than all the others combined, and it confirmed for Serpens that he wouldn't want to be in McKenzie's shoes when Vlad got a hold of him.

It was the second objective that really held Dante's interest however. Why risk going after the child again? So what if a few club members had to live with the consequences of their own depraved tastes. "Is it really necessary to risk acquiring the child?" Serpens asked gently, not willing to appear to be openly questioning the Abbot's decision.

"I'm afraid it is old friend, and now is the perfect time to do so. My sources tell me he was spirited away from the battle by a healer, Morag Nightshade. His fathers are currently under arrest, and he himself is wanted by the Clave. The child is vulnerable, and I doubt there will be an easier time to ensure he is ours for the duration." Druganin said.

Heaving a sigh, Serpen's persisted; "Yes, but why take the risk at all, so what if a few members succumb to demon pox?"

"Dante, if anyone but you questioned me..." Druganin left the sentence open ended, and Serpens knew that whatever the Abbot said next, would be his final word on the matter, the warlock would not dare ask again. "If I allowed club member's to fall victim to demon pox, we would soon find ourselves unable to attract those most likely to contract it, mundanes, and more importantly shadowhunters. It does not suit my purposes for the Hellfire Club to have no shadowhunter members." 

Silence fell over the two men as they each got lost in their own thoughts. Vladimir found himself remembering his beautiful Madeline. When he'd met her, over an hundred and fifty years ago, he had long given up on the idea of having a consort, but she charmed him. The right mix of beauty, intelligence and reverence for his position. He knew he would never meet her like again, and even his plan for Gerard McKenzie was cold comfort for such a loss. Rising to his feet, Vladimir Druganin moved over to the window where he saw the first traces of dawn beginning to show in the eastern sky. "We have lingered here long enough Dante, It is time for us to return , and begin the work of rebuilding the Hellfire Club;"

Serpens nodded his head in agreement and stepping over to a blank stone wall sending out a blast of strange, poisonous green magic that began to swirl into the familiar shape of a portal. The warlock would be glad to get home, he didn't enjoy travelling anymore, though he suspected there would be a great deal of it required in the next little while. His first order of business would be to find the healer, Morag Nightshade and the child.


	28. Chapter 28

Monday morning dawned bright and cold. Magnus shifted uncomfortably on the narrow cot that comprised one of the few bits of furniture in his austere cell. The guard, Jessie, would be bringing breakfast soon and this day, the first day of his trial, would begin in earnest. Magnus sighed heavily and pushed himself into a sitting position. He wished he could feel even a glimmer of hope for the future, but realistically, the Clave was positively hidebound where their rules were concerned, 'sed lex dura lex', he wished he had a dollar for every time some shadowhunter had spouted that old chestnut at him. Just then, he heard the scraping of a metal tray that told him breakfast had arrived. 

"Already up I see;" Jessie Bradshaw said as he slid the food toward his prisoner. "Better eat that while its hot, your advocate will be here in half an hour;" The shadowhunter didn't know how it had happened, but he'd gone from suspicion, and distrust of his infamous charge, to the beginnings of concern and even friendship. 

"Thanks Jessie." Magnus said quietly. He doubted he'd be able to eat anything this morning, but that was hardly his guard's fault. The warlock watched as Bradshaw, about to continue his rounds, stopped and turned back towards him.

"Good luck today, Magnus;" It was said quietly, with a sincerity that impressed Magnus.  
"Children are one of life's blessings;" The shadowhunter continued: "I don't imagine there's any better reason to live, if not to nurture the next generation." The warlock had never tried to impress Jessie, and the guard found himself, against his beliefs, almost against his will, touched by the humanity of the man.

A small, sad smile graced Magnus face; "Thanks Jessie;" He said as he watched the guard walk down the cold dark hallway.

~~~~~!!!!~~~~~

Isabelle and Maryse Lightwood entered the packed courtroom for the first day of Magnus' trial. Neither woman had ever attended a proceeding of the Court of Assize, and were impressed by the size and grandeur of the courtroom. The high, vaulted ceilings soared above them, held up by massive stone walls pierced at intervals by ethereal stained glass windows depicting various scenes of Jonathan Shadowhunter and the Angel Raziel. At the front of the room, on a large dais was an elaborately carved wooden table and five high backed red leather chairs. The Justices of the Court would sit there to listen to the facts of the case, and render their judgments. Just below that were two smaller tables, one for the prosecution, and one for the defense. Witnesses were placed in a small box adjacent to the Justices. Two long galleries ran the length of the room on either side for spectators, and there was a small seating area behind the defense and prosecution tables for the friends and family of the participants. Maryse and Isabelle made their way to reserved seats behind the defense table. Jace, who had accompanied them to the court had been escorted to the witness room. He would not be able to watch the trial until he finished giving evidence.

Isabelle glanced over as the Advocate for the Defense, Asher entered through a side door, followed by Magnus. The warlock was flanked by two guards, and Isabelle thought she had never seen her flamboyant brother-in-law look so different. Magnus sleek, black hair was worn long and straight, no product or glitter to mold it into a dramatic fashion statement. He wore a plain, black robe and his face was a calm mask that showed neither fear nor apprehension at his unenviable situation. Isabelle, who had seen Magnus wear everything from glittering armour to avant guard club clothes found him oddly impressive in his stark, unadorned state. 

Turning her attention to Magnus' Advocate, Isabelle tried to read something in the fairy's serene, untroubled expression, some hope for the ultimate success of their case. She knew it was an exercise in futility, but couldn't help herself. Helplessness did not suit Isabelle lightwood, and she had never felt so helpless to protect those she loved. 

A sudden flurry of sound had her checking the opposite side of the courtroom, the prosecutor had just entered. Isabelle recognized him as a shadowhunter, Thomas Crestwell, someone she knew by sight, but not in any other way. He appeared to be in is late thirties, of a stocky build, with regular features, sandy blond hair, imminently forgettable, except for his eyes; they glittered with intelligence, confidence even to the point of cruelty, and they made her shudder. 

The entrance of the five Justices arrested the attention of the whole court. Their appearance was heralded by the sounding of a large gong, and Isabelle could see that that the panel was made up of two warlocks and two shadowhunters. The chief justice was the last to appear, a werewolf judging by his stocky, powerful appearance. All the Justices, save the Chief Justice, took their seats. Isabelle felt, as much as saw, his dark, intense eyes scan the courtroom. Then in a voice that brooked no dissent, he called the court to order. The silence in the room was oppressive, and Isabelle was almost relieved when an officer of the court stood up to introduce the judicial panel, ending with the words; "Chief Justice Jason Gray presiding!"

The Chief Justice took immediate control of the court, announcing the charges that Magnus was being accused of, the theft and use of an illegal spell, and asking for the warlock's plea to those charges. Magnus rose to his feet, head held high, looking directly at the Chief Justice; "Not Guilty!" The words rang out clearly in the quiet room, and Isabelle saw Asher reach up to touch Magnus arm, as if reminding him that it would not do to challenge the court unnecessarily. She also saw a flicker of emotion pass over the Chief Justice's face, it was gone so quickly that Isabelle couldn't be sure she had actually seen it. Had she realized that a werewolf member of the Hellfire club, killed at Eilean Donan was one Hunter Gray, she might have been even more concerned for the fate of her loved ones.

Once Magnus plea was recorded, the prosecutor was given permission to present his opening statement, and begin the case against the accused. Magnus' Advocate would be given the opportunity to cross examine all the prosecution's witnesses, but would not give his own opening statement or call defense witnesses until the prosecution had presented their case. 

Thomas Crestwell rose from his seat and moved to the front of the Justices' table. From that position, he declared he would prove 'beyond a reasonable doubt' that High Warlock Magnus Bane had the means, motive and opportunity to steal an illegal spell from the Silent Brothers of Mont Saint-Michel. That having acquired the information, he then proceeded to invoke the spell against both Coven and Clave law. It was a short, concise, speech which was followed by the calling of the first witness, Brother Jarius.

The tall, gaunt Silent Brother walked quietly to the witness box. He was accompanied by a shadowhunter who would act as interpreter. It had been determined having spectators and Court members hear Brother Jarius' testimony in their minds might be too disconcerting for all concerned.

Under direct examination, Brother Jarius recounted Magnus unexpected visit to see Brother Armand at Mont Saint-Michel almost four years ago. He explained that Brother Armand was in fact the ancient warlock, Armand-Jean du Plessis de Richelieu, former Cardinal of the Catholic Church, First Minister of France, and High Warlock of Paris. A gasp was heard in the courtroom as very few of the spectators realized there had been far fewer rules about interfering in mundane matters back then. The Chief Justice called the Court back to order, admonishing the spectators that he would clear the courtroom if they could not control their reactions. Isabelle, remembered the impressive, complicated man she had met all those years ago, and wondered what the Court would have made of Brother Armand, had he still been alive to address them. 

Brother Jarius continued his testimony, admitting that Magnus Bane had been left alone at the monastery for a short time while he went to ascertain whether Brother Armand would see his visitor. And yes it was possible that Magnus could have slipped into the library while Brother Jarius was gone, but he would have to have known precisely where the book was. Advocate Crestwell asked if Brother Armand could have supplied information on the spell to Magnus. The Silent Brother indicated that this too might have been a possibility. Brother Armand spent many years at Mont Saint-Michel and, over time, he'd been granted free access to the library there. 

After Crestwell had finished with the witness, Asher rose and asked Brother Jarius whether he'd been present during the meeting between Magnus Bane and Brother Armand. The Silent Brother's response had been a decided no, and Asher went on to add; "So you have no way of knowing whether they were discussing the weather, or anything else?" Brother Jarius responded that he was not present, and did not know what the men had discussed. Asher indicated he had no further questions for the witness and Brother Jarius was excused.

Isabelle did not have any way of gauging whether the testimony of Brother Jarius had hurt Magnus' case. She, herself did not know how Magnus had come by his knowledge of that spell. Still, she suspected the prosecution had at least raised the possibility that Magnus had accessed the information when he visited Mont Saint-Michel, and the timing certainly seemed suspicious, even to her. But Isabelle also knew that Magnus had agreed to help Lucia become pregnant centuries ago, and though he hadn't intended to go through with it, she wondered if the warlock had already know the spell then? Isabelle heaved a heavy sigh, sometimes the secrecy that surrounded her brother-in-law's long, life drove her crazy. Time, and Alec had taught her to trust Magnus, but she doubted it would be a view shared by many in that crowed courtroom.


	29. Chapter 29

Alec Lightwood pushed himself away from the desk in his mother's study. He'd been writing a letter to Magnus, the only thing that could possibly distract him on this, the first day of his husband's trial. The fact that Magnus' Advocate, had offered to take any correspondence Alec wished to send his husband, had gone a long way to overcome the initial bad impression the shadowhunter had of the fairy. 

Alec's letter to Magus was filled with his love for the warlock, words of encouragement and hope for the future, a hope that, in his heart of hearts, Alec sometimes had trouble believing in, no matter how much he wanted to. He missed Magnus so much, and their precious son. If only there was something he could do instead of sitting here day after day, helpless while those he loved were in danger. 

A soft sound at the front door told Alec the evening paper was here, and he hurried to get it. He didn't expect there to be much news, it was only the first day of the trial after all, but he scanned the headlines anxiously all the same. The first few lines told him he had been right, there was nothing but speculation, separated by one or two actual facts from the day's testimony. Yes, Magnus had gone to Mont Saint-Michel, which was suspicious, but no, there was no hard evidence that he had actually stolen the spell at that time. Alec sighed, popular opinion seemed to be one of suspicion and mistrust. Warlocks were dangerous, and secretive, enemies in their midst. No one seemed to recall that warlocks and other downworlders had been their allies against Valentine, that shadowhunters had once born alliance runes sharing strengths to meet a common enemy. 

In a moment of fury, Alec crumpled the paper and threw it aside, needing desperately to do something, anything to help his beloved family, the riskier, the better. Half way to the front door of the flat Alec heard the sounds of Jace, Izzy and Maryse returning.

Jace paused just over the threshold, examining his parabatai closely; "Going somewhere?"

Alec flushed, knowing full well that, but for their timely arrival, he would probably have tried to leave the flat. He also knew, the consequences of doing so would have only added to their troubles. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he disregarded Jaces's question and said; "I'm glad your back. H-how was Magnus?"

Jace ignored the slight crack in his brother's voice; "He looked, strong, calm. I think it's been really good for him to get your letters, Alec."

Alec gave Jace a small, sad smile and then asked; "How did the trial go today?"

"I'll have to defer to the ladies on that;" Jace replied. "They had me cooped up in this tiny, windowless room. I don't know how they think it would taint a witness to at least have a view of the gardens."

Marsye stepped forward then saying; "Why don't you three sit down in the living room. Isabelle can fill you in on today, while I get us something to eat." With that she moved off into the kitchen and began to prepare food, not checking, just expecting that her three children would do as she said.

~~~~~!!!!!~~~~~

Gerard McKenzie paced the width of his cell, angry and disgruntled. He had tried several times over the last few days to contact members of the Hellfire Club, but with no response. He was still their Abbot, how could they ignore him in his hour of greatest need! The shadowhunter took a deep breath trying to steady his fraying nerves. No, no, he was sure they must be working to free him, all that was required was a little more patience. It helped to know that Magnus Bane's trial had started today. There was no way that warlock would get out of this predicament unscathed. McKenzie would take what comfort he could from knowing his enemies were facing worse fates than his own.

Even so, his plan to avenge himself on Shivaun McRae had not gone as he'd anticipated. That stupid, Robert Lightwood had put HIM to the soul sword instead of Ian McRae! The incident was seared into McKenzie's memory, and he shuddered. The Inquisitor asked him only one question, did he have any proof of the serious accusations made, and McKenzie was forced to admit he did not. The portents of a Devil's Tarot reading would never be counted as proof, and Isaiah Blackwell had lost his life at Eilean Donan, before getting the evidence Gerard demanded. The Abbot had been bluffing when he blackmailed Shivaun into agreeing to be his wife. McKenzie would never forget Robert Lightwood, eyes blazing with suppressed fury, as he declared that "No witch-hunt would be initiated on the word of the degenerate, disgraced shadowhunter before him." The whole incident left the Abbot feeling angry and impotent. How dare Robert lightwood dismiss him in that disdainful manner! He would make them all pay, as soon as he was free!

A sudden soft shuffling in the hallway attracted the prisoner's attention, probably that fool, Jessie Bradshaw bringing more of the slop that passed for food in this cursed place. But, when Gerard looked through the small, barred window in the cell door, just above the slot for the food tray, he saw a shadowhunter he recognized as a club member! Help had come at last!

"Abbot;" The man said with a reverential nod of his head. 

"It is about time!" Gerard snapped; "What news do you bring me?"

"The club is working to affect your release Abbot, and in the meanwhile I brought you this." The man placed a small reddish, brown tablet on the window ledge where Gerard could reach it. 

The Abbot knew it was a dose of the Curatio, and wondered which version it was, the last batch that Gorgon had made using the child's blood, or the less effective variety?  
Either way it was a welcome sight, almost as welcome as news of his release would be. 

"How much longer before the plans to release me are in place;" He demanded, pocketing the precious tablet.

Before the man could answer, however, The voice of Jessie Bradshaw rang out; "Oiye what are you doing here! This isn't your area get along and don't let me catch you here again!"

The man ducked his head and hurried away without a word, as Bradshaw checked to ensure nothing was amiss with his prisoner. Gerard met the guard's scrutiny with an angry glare but said nothing, only waiting to make sure he wasn't observed before dry swallowing the Curatio tablet.

Jessie had only gone a dozen paces when he heard an unearthly scream from the cell he'd just left. The sound echoed off the dark, stone walls and sent a chill down the guard's spine, freezing him for just a moment, before long years of training kicked in, and he raced back toward the cell just as the door blew outward, torn off its heavy, metal hinges.

Moving out of the cell was a huge, powerful demon with grayish, corpse-like skin stretched taunt over heavy veins and muscles. Its head and face were hairless, the huge, distended jaw opening to show jagged, serrated teeth and a long, black tongue. A second maw appeared to protrude from the demon's chest, complete with its own set of vicious fangs. One look at the creature, and Jessie knew he would need help if he was to have any hope of surviving the encounter. Turning quickly on his heel, the guard ran down the hallway, pulling out his keys as he did so. Behind him, the lumbering steps of the demon seemed to shake the stone floors, and his roar sent a frisson of fear down the shadowhunter's spine.

At last Jessie arrived at the one place that might provide the help he needed, the cell of Magnus Bane! Fumbling with the keys, he managed to release the lock and swung the door open with such force, it slammed into the stone wall with a thud. 

"What in the world, Jess..." Magnus began as he took in the anxious man in front of him.

"No time for explanations!" Bradshaw panted. "There's a demon headed this way, and I can't take it on alone!"

Magnus stepped quickly into the hallway, and saw the horrific creature was no more than a few yards away. Once out of the cell, the wards that prevented Magnus from using his magic no longer applied, and It was not lost on the warlock, the guard was betting his life Magnus would not just take the opportunity to escape, but stay and help him defeat the demon. With a deep breath the warlock began to summon his formidable power until, just as the beast was within striking distance, he let loose a blast of blue magic that caused it to stumble backward, screaming in pain. Jessie also moved forward, seraph blade blazing, to try and keep the demon from regaining its feet. Both men stayed just out of reach of its huge, snapping jaws, and using a combination of magic, and fighting skills, to send it back to a hell dimension, Magnus wasn't particular which one.

Slumping down to the stone floor, the exhausted men looked at each other, grins breaking out on their faces as they felt the camaraderie that only comes from facing a dangerous enemy together.

"What the hell was that?" Jessie asked.

"That was a Selachimorha, or shark demon, though how it got past Alicante's demon towers I don't know." Magnus said, shaking his head; "It seemed oddly uncoordinated though, they are usually much quicker and more frenzied when attacking.

"I-it came out of McKenzie's cell!" Jessie said as if only now realizing that his other prisoner might be injured, or dead. The guard pushed himself up off the floor with great effort. The fight had taken a lot out of him, and he wasn't as young as he used to be.

"Oh my God, McKenzie! He must have had demon pox, that would explain the fact that the demon was so slow, he hadn't had time to adjust to his new body." Magnus exclaimed, it made so much sense. Gerard McKenzie, and who knew how many more Hellfire Club members, were dependant on the Curatio to keep their secrets. His precious child had become a commodity, because depraved men like McKenzie thought more of their own pleasures than the welfare of anyone else. 

"D-demon pox! I thought that was just a myth;" Jessie shuddered as the horror of the idea took hold of his mind.

"Believe me, I wish that were true;" Magnus said bitterly.


	30. Chapter 30

The sound of running footsteps echoed off the stone walls of the hallway. The cavalry was coming, too late to be of any real assistance. Jessie rose slowly to his feet before offering his hand to help Magnus up. By the time both men were on their feet, they were surrounded by guards who grasped Magnus' arms roughly, assuming he'd made some sort of escape attempt. 

"Get your hands off him! Jessie snarled. "He just saved my life, and the lives of others who would have been killed if that demon got loose in the Gard!"

"What demon? What are you talking about Bradshaw? The captain of the guard asked, suspicion written in the grim lines of his face. His eyes fixed on his subordinate's face as he tried to determine if the man could be under the warlock's thrall.

Jessie glared back at his captain, giving him an 'as if' snort before filling him in on what had happened, and pointing to the black, foul smelling ichor that covered the floor as proof of his statement. 

Reluctantly, the captain agreed that perhaps they owed a debt of gratitude to the warlock, but he was still a prisoner, and as such must be returned to his cell immediately. Jessie shook his head sadly, this was a fine way to repay the man who had saved him. Still, he demanded that Magnus Bane be treated with respect, and so it was oddly like an honour guard that escorted the warlock back to his cell that day.

~~~~!!!!!~~~~

Vladimir Druganin sat behind the heavy, elaborately carved wooden desk, and smiled to himself as he read a newly arrived fire message. His plans were going well. A sudden, soft click alerted him to the arrival of his Circuitor and he said; "Dante, come in, come in. Have a seat." This last bit was said with a corresponding wave of his elegant hand to indicate Serpens should take one of the two black leather guest chairs in front of the desk.

"You look pleased." The Circuitor said as he settled into one of the chairs.

"Yes, I have just received word that McKenzie as been dealt with. We no longer need be concerned that Hellfire Club's secrets will be spilled by the application of the soul sword."

"How have you managed to get to him in the shadowhunter stronghold!?" Serpens asked, a combination of curiosity and awe in his voice.

"It was a simple matter really, I merely had a pill delivered to him, that he perceived to be the Curatio. In actual fact, it was the reverse, removing every remaining vestige of the cure and forcing him into the final stages of demon pox. I expect it caused considerable consternation among his guards. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit Dante?"

Dante Serpens smiled as he answered; "Well, I think I have even more good news to add;" he stated. "I have located Morag Nightshade."

"Well done!" Druganin said, returning Serpens smile with one of his own. This really was turning into a very successful day. "So, give me the details."

"She is staying with the boy in a small cottage on the Northern coast of Ireland. The place is warded, but it won't be a problem for me."

"How did you track her? Druganin prompted. The vampire liked to have all the details of any plan with which he was involved. You didn't get to be his age by taking foolish risks.

"Morag Nightshade is a healer, so I had a club member watch the healer's network to see if she tried to contact anyone that way. It was tedious work, but at last it paid off. The stupid woman contacted Catarina Loss, and we were able to track her location."

"So what are your plans for getting her and, more importantly, the child?" The Abbot asked, giving Serpens his undivided attention as the warlock outlined every detail...

~~~~!!!!!~~~~

Morag Nightshade sat on the porch of her eccentric, witches hat of a cottage and watched as the last vestiges of the portal magic dissipated. It had been two days ago that Catarina Loss arrived bringing the first news of the outside world to a very anxious Morag. The visit had been bittersweet, as Morag now knew that Aidan Briosag survived the battle at Eilean Donan, but lost his long-time friend and ally, Hamish. Alec and Magnus had also survived, but were now facing serious, potentially deadly legal issues. Catarina was on her way to Alicante, having been called as a witness in Magnus' trial before the Court of Assize, and it would likely be some time before Morag had any more news from the outside world.

Morag scooped up young Aiden, the child struggling to be brave about the departure of his Aunty Cat, the first person from home he had seen, the first person that gave him hope he would eventually be reunited with his daddy and papa. Morag gently kissed the child on his cheek, and told him again how much his drawings would mean to the two men who were his whole world. The little boy had worked very hard, the evening before to finish them so that Aunty Cat could take them with her.

"I'll make us a cup of hot chocolate and we'll have a story by the fire;" Morag told the child, hoping to distract them both from their sad thoughts. She added another log to the fire which was snapping and crackling cheerfully, before moving to the stove to heat the milk. Magnus would have snapped his fingers and had two steaming cups of hot chocolate ready in seconds, but Morag found a measure of peace in simple, everyday tasks. 

A short while later she had the drinks ready, extra milk in Aiden's so it wouldn't be too hot, and settled into an arm chair to read. They had been working through an age appropriate version of The Arabian Nights. Aiden love the tales of Aladdin's Lamp, and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. Morag had just nicely settled into one of the voyages of Sinbad when she felt the first assault on her wards. They had been found, and not by friends!

The healer dropped her book and raced to the window. Several men stood near an outcropping of rocks that marked the edge of the cliff down to the sea, and the boundary of her wards around the cottage. Her eyes were drawn immediately to the tall, thin man in front. The small horns peaking through his long, white hair told her he was a warlock, and the deep, purple magic, roiling from his finger tips was powerful. Morag knew her wards would not hold for long.

Quickly the healer scooped up Aiden, who had followed her to the window, and moved to one of the small bedrooms. There was no time to plan, no time to think at all really, as she gathered her magic to create the portal she hoped would take them to safety. The swirling magic had just begun to take shape when she felt her wards fail, and seconds later, the cottage door burst open splintering with the force of the blow that struck it.

Morag leap forward into the portal as a blast of purple magic swooshed past her shoulder, searing her skin. The portal began to wobble, and the healer prayed it would not collapse before taking her and Aiden to their destination...


	31. Chapter 31

It was the second day of Magnus' trial, and you could have heard a pin drop in the courtroom as Janus Dark made his way to the witness box. The elderly potion maker looked anything but pleased to be there, as he settled into the hard wooden chair reserved for those who were required to shed light on matters of the court. It was the culmination of several trying days he'd spent as a guest of the Clave. Why couldn't they understand that he wanted nothing to do with these unpleasant matters, and leave him alone? Obviously, even Russia had not been far enough away to keep him safe this time!

The Prosecutor, Thomas Crestwell rose from his seat, and approached the witness. "Please, state your name and occupation for the Court;" He stated with a cold confidence that might have rattled a more nervous witness.

"My name is Janus Dark, and I am a potion maker;" Dark replied calmly, adjusting his half-moon spectacles, an affectation as he had no real need of them. They, as so much else about his appearance, designed disguise and dissemble. He had told Magnus, years ago, the old were practically invisible in this age-conscious society, and he liked it that way.

"How long have you practiced this profession Mr. Dark? Crestwell asked, his voice friendly, almost conversational.

"Centuries." Janus snapped, wondering why on earth that was important, and wishing to get this whole distasteful business over with as quickly as possible. Public spectacles like this were bad for business. Many of his clients expected discretion with their purchases.

"And are you considered a proficient potion maker?" Crestwell continued, ignoring Dark's irritation, and the fact that he had in all likelihood insulted the man.

A flush of anger tinged Janus' cheeks; "I am one of the best potion makers alive today;" 

"The defendant, Magnus Bane;" The prosecutor said pointing to the table where Magnus sat with his advocate; "is one of your clients, is he not?"

"I have many clients!" Janus sputtered, trying to insinuate that he couldn't be expected to remember all of them, although he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. Magnus was far too well known and flamboyant not to make a lasting impression.

Thomas Crestwell smiled at the witness's discomfort, and said slyly; "Including Magnus Bane?"

Janus closed his eyes and sighed; "Yes, High Warlock Bane is a client."

"Four years ago, almost to the day, Magnus Bane purchased a number of ingredients from you. Please tell the court what those ingredients are used for." The prosecutor's tone had gone from friendly, to cold and stern. He expected an answer, and knew Dark was in no position to deny him one.

Looking very uncomfortable now, Janus Dark spoke softly, almost apologetically; "T-they are used, along with blood and seed to create a magical pregnancy;"

"Did you ask the defendant why he needed these ingredients when the magic is illegal to perform?" Crestwell persisted.

"N-no, I warned him that I had only seen a list of ingredients like it once before, and that it ended very badly." Janus Dark vividly remembered his own words to Magnus that day, when the High Warlock had asked him what he meant about it ending badly; 'An extraordinarily beautiful child, very powerful, but no empathy, no soul, an abomination. And the parents, both killed.' He would not say those words today, because today he knew better.

"Did Magnus Bane come to you for any other extraordinary items around that time? Mr. Dark.... Mr. Dark!" The prosecutor's voice rose as his witness sat engrossed in his own thoughts. The courtroom erupted in nervous twitters until the Chief justice called them back to order, by threatening to clear the gallery.

Gathering himself, Janus Dark asked Crestwell to repeat the question, although he had, in fact, heard it the first time. Before he could answer, however, the defence advocate was on his feet.

"Objection, what is the relevance of this line of questioning?" Asher asked as if the prosecutor was wasting the court's time and needed to be reined in accordingly.

Addressing the Chief Justice, Thomas Crestwell replied; "It goes to the defendant's mindset your honour, his willingness to flaunt Clave and Coven law." 

Chief Justice Gray looked sternly at the prosecutor before replying; "I will allow the witness to answer the question, but there had better be a point here, advocate."

Crestwell repeated the question, and Dark knew there was no more time, no reprieve from what was to come. He had made his deal with the devil when he turned a blind eye to the Hellfire Club, and though he'd much rather say nothing further of his dealings with Magnus Bane, it had been made perfectly clear to Dark that he must answer the questions put to him, or risk facing charges himself. "I sold High Warlock Bane an old spell book;" 

"An old spell book, how innocuous!" Crestwell said his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Please tell the court just which 'old' spell book you sold the defendant, and its significance." The prosecutor was getting tired of Janus Dark's attempts to down play his actions, and the actions of Magnus Bane. 

"The Malefactorum;" Dark replied softly; "One of the most powerful, difficult and evil spell books ever written. It is said to have been authored by a Prince of Hell himself, Asmodeus." Janus Dark was aware of the tension in the room, and the sharp glances he received from the two warlock justices. The Malefactorum was banned by both Clave and Coven, and his own possession of it had been highly illegal. 

"Did the accused tell you why he wanted the book?" Crestwell asked.

"No, he did not;"

Crestwell turned to the Justices and indicated he had finished with the witness. It was time for Asher to cross-examine the potion maker, and Janus Dark found himself wishing this horrendous day was over.

Isabelle Lightwood, who had been sitting behind the defense table, found herself willing Asher to get up and eviscerate Janus Dark. The man's testimony had been very damning, especially that gratuitous bit about the Malefactorum, which made it seem as though Magnus thought nothing of flouting Clave and Coven law, not to mention that it was written by Magnus father, Asmodeus. No mention of that evil git, in connection with Magnus was a good thing.

Asher rose slowly from his chair and approached the witness box, a gentle smile on his handsome face. "I realize you have had a long day, but I would like to ask you a bit more about those ingredients my client purchased. According to your earlier testimony, you warned my Client their use had previously ended very badly. Can you explain what you meant by that?"

Janus Dark shifted uncomfortably on his hard wooden seat; "T-there is a rather well known story about a warlock, Chance Malum and a shadowhunter, Alexandra Whitelaw who fell in love, married and wanting a child, turned to magic to make it happen. The upshot of that magical pregnancy was said to be an extraordinarily beautiful child with no soul, an abomination;" Dark paused for a moment to catch his breath before continuing; "Chance Malum and the child were killed. Alexandra was stripped of her marks and died shortly after."

"And did you believe that story to be true:" Asher asked.

"I did, hence my warning to High Warlock Bane."

"And do you still believe it?"

"In all respects, but two. The child of that unfortunate couple did not die, nor was he an abomination. He was a warlock, a gifted potion maker, and my friend;"

The gasp from the spectators broke the stillness of courtroom and forced the Chief Justice to call the room back to order. Crestwell was on his feet about to question the relevance of this information to the case at hand, when Asher indicated that he was finished with the witness, although he reserved the right to recall Dark to the stand.

It was far too late in the afternoon to call another witness, so the court was adjourned for the day. Isabelle watched as a stoic Magnus was escorted back to the cells. She hoped Asher knew what he was doing, It would destroy Alec if his beloved husband was found guilty. A guilty verdict for Magnus would also mean Alec would be stripped of his marks, and it would never again be safe for Aiden to see his family. 

She felt Maryse's hand on her shoulder and knowing it was time, turned to follow her out of the courtroom.


	32. Chapter 32

Robert Lightwood knocked firmly on his ex-wife's door. He and Maryse had been separated long enough by now that they were past the awkward phase, and for the sake of their children, able to be civil to each other. He expected Maryse was still at the court, however, and it was Alec he had come to see.

Alec opened the door, and to say his father was surprised by his son's appearance was an understatement. Alec's face was drawn, and he had lost weight since Robert had last seen him. Being forced to sit on the sidelines when his family was in danger was torture for Alec. 

"Dad, this is an unexpected surprise;" Alec said quietly as he stepped aside to let Robert enter. The Clave's wards prevented Alec form even stepping into the common hallway of the building.

"Alec, I wanted to drop by and let you know that I've dealt with McKenzie's ludicrous accusations regarding Josh Cameron and Ian McRae. There will be no action taken against either of them." Robert paused briefly, glad to see a small smile of relief graced his son's pale face. "I understand that Jia has to be careful, but to give credence to anything that man said..."

Thanks for taking care of this Dad;" Alec interrupted, placing a hand on his father's shoulder. The relationship between them had been badly strained when Alec first came out, and admitted he was dating Magnus. Time and effort had been needed to repair the damage, and it seemed that they had both been repaid for that hard work.

"I took and leaf out of your book Alec, and did everything in my power to protect our family." Robert said softly.

The two men shared a quiet moment, but before anymore could be said, the Loft door opened with a bang and Izzy, Jace, and Maryse walked in arguing about the trial, and the testimony they'd heard.

Izzy stopped abruptly, as soon as she saw her father and Alec in the lounge. "Dad, I didn't know you were coming! Alec, I have a letter for you from Magnus, and something special from Catarina." Carefully she placed Magnus letter in Alec's hand, as well as the drawing that little Aiden had sent with his Aunty Cat for daddy.

Tears shone in Alec's eyes as he saw the precious items. He turned abruptly and went to the guest room that had become both his home and prison, since returning to Alicante. He needed privacy to read Magnus' words, and see the brightly coloured picture that his son had drawn, stick figures of the three of them in happier times.

~~~~~!!!!!~~~~~

Dante Serpens stood in front of his Abbot, explaining the failure of his mission to bring back the child of a marked shadowhunter and a warlock, who was the only means of producing the effective Curatio Daemonium Insanitas. Outwardly he remained calm, precise, unwilling to show the turmoil, fear even, that he felt reporting this unsuccessful effort. 

"Dante, Dante, Dante.....while this is not the news I would have preferred to hear right now, we must look calmly at what stands in the way of our ultimate success." Vladimir Druganin's cold, commanding voice filled the room, doing nothing to address the anxiety of his subordinate. The tall, imposing figure of Druganin stood, towering over Serpens, and moving with an ancient grace to the window, dark now with nothing but the moon and stars to illuminate the garden below.

Dante Serpens brought the news to Druganin that Morag Nightshade had managed to escape the cottage in Northern Ireland, with the boy. They had tracked her to the Edinburgh Downworld. Vladimir Druganin was not the type of leader who 'shot the messenger,' but neither did he suffer fools gladly. Serpens' entire attention was now focused on his leader, alert for any indication as to how this interview would go. He had no desire to become Druganin's next meal.

"The Edinburgh Institute is in shambles;" The Abbot continued; "And their long history of hatred toward the downworld makes it unlikely they will act decisively if we move against Briosag. The Clave is preoccupied with their own 'witch hunt'. A warlock having a baby through the use of magic has them paralyzed with fear, so typical of their narrow, bigoted view."

Serpens said nothing, merely nodding to indicate he understood and concurred with Druganin's assessment.

"If we attack the Edinburgh Downworld now, and take the child from Briosag and his followers, I think we have a fair chance of success. By the time the Clave realizes they need to act, it will be far too late."

"I will assemble the necessary men and supplies;" Serpens said anticipating the Abbot's next orders.

"Find me someone who has been to the Edinburgh Downworld;" Druganin said; "I want some idea of the layout before we make our move."

With a brief nod of his head, Dante Serpens summoned a portal and left to do his master's bidding. It felt good to be in active service again with Druganin, just like old times...

~~~~~!!!!!~~~~~

Deep in the underground tunnels, caverns and rooms, the city under a city, that formed the Edinburgh Downworld, Aidan Briosag sat in room lit only by lanterns hung on gray stone walls, and the flicker of a smokeless, magic fire on the hearth. Morag had gone to bed hours ago, after settling the child, Magnus and Alec's son, into one of the small guest rooms. 

Briosag's heart had soared to see his beloved Morag again, but that joy was mixed with deep concern. He had questioned her minutely about the men who had breached her wards, and attempted to take her and the boy from the cottage in Ireland. Initially, he had assumed the Clave must have discovered Morag's hiding place, but now he was not so sure. Something about Morag's description of a tall, thin warlock with white blonde hair and small horns nagged at his memory, tantalizing, just beyond his recall. 

It had been more than two century now that Aidan called Edinburgh home, but before that he had travelled extensively, lured by exotic places and new experiences; Hong Kong, St. Petersburg and Jakarta, where he had first met Magnus Bane. Wait! That was it! The High Warlock of St. Petersburg, Dante Serpens fit Morag's description to a tee, but what possible reason could Serpens have for wanting Magnus and Alec's son? It made no sense.

Aidan rose from his seat, he needed answers and he needed them now. The High Warlock of Edinburgh had survived for centuries by listening to his instincts, and they were telling him he was running out of time. Tired as he was, there would be no sleep this night until he had some answers, and in the meanwhile he would put his beloved Downworld Underground on high alert. Protecting the child was of prime importance, both from the Clave, and whoever it was that Serpens represented. 

A quick tour of the Underground city, to reinforce the entrance wards, and double the guards was followed by the sending of a fire message to an old friend, a warlock who had long made his home in Russia. If anyone knew what Serpens was up to, Demetri would. The Russian warlocks had always been suspicious each other, circling like two alpha dogs trying to gage who was the strongest. Briosag had paid little attention to their squabble at the time, assuming things would eventually get sorted out, and it had been easy enough to let Demitri vent about the perfidious Dante Serpens.

Satisfied that he had done all he could for now, Aidan went to check on the child, before joining Morag to get a few hours of sleep. Although he did not know it at the time, It would be that last he had for awhile.


	33. Chapter 33

Magnus Bane sat at the defense table, no flicker of emotion played over his pale, handsome face. Witness after witness had been called by the prosecutor to prove that Magnus had done exactly what they claimed he had done, used an illegal spell to allow an, otherwise sterile, warlock to bear a child. His Advocate, Asher, had insisted he plead innocent, although they both knew nothing could be further from the truth. 

To the Justices who sat on the bench, it might appear that Magnus Bane was detached, almost bored with the proceedings. The truth, however, was far different. Nothing was more important to him than the outcome of this trial, though at the moment he saw no possibility of a good result. In all likelihood, he would be found guilty and sentenced to death, but it was the fate of Alec and Aiden, the ones he loved more than life itself, that mattered, and a guilty verdict would be devastating for them as well. What would he not do to protect them, and what did he not suffer knowing that their fates were out of his hands? 

Magnus paid little attention to the witnesses, preferring instead to lose himself in memories of his beloved Alec....unless they were people who mattered to him, like Catarina. When she had been called as a witness, Magnus pulled himself out of his reverie, and made eye contact. He desperately wanted to let her know that, regardless of what happened, they were, and always would be, family. She was his Aiden's Aunty Cat, and his long time friend and confident. Magnus tried, with every fibre of his being to let her know that no matter what happened in this cold, impersonal courtroom, they were good, their relationship inviolate.

The Prosecutor had taken Catarina through her kidnapping at the hands of Lucia, the birth of baby Aiden, and even the fact that Aiden bore Magnus' warlock mark and not Lucia's. It was patently obvious to the entire Court that Magnus had, not only, stolen the illegal spell but used it to create a child, not for his sister, but for himself. 

Magnus did his best to try and catch Catarina's eye and reassure her, none of this was her fault. He had known exactly what he was doing, and frankly would do it all again given the same set of circumstances. Alec's life had hung in the balance, and while Magnus could no longer imagine a future that did not include his precious son, he had substituted his own blood for Lucia's to prevent the creation of a child that would perpetuate her tainted line, not to ensure his own. He doubted that the Justices would appreciate the distinction, however.

A look of great sadness crossed Magnus' face as he watched his oldest living friend exit the witness box. It was the first crack in the stoic façade the defendant had presented to the Court. Some observers sneered at what they perceived to be a sign of self pity; others, who saw with better eyes, knew it was a reflection of the pain Magnus felt for the grief he was causing his loved ones.

The moment was broken by Prosecutor Crestwell calling his next witness, Jonathan Christopher Herondale to the stand. Jace entered the courtroom, confidence, almost to the point of arrogance, in every line of his body and expression of his face. He was a warrior and this just one more battle. As he passed the defence table, he shot Magnus a small, reassuring smile as if to say, 'don't worry, I've got this covered.'

Magnus sighed and shook his head slightly as he watched Jace move to the witness box. The shadowhunter and he had often spared in the past, both too confident in their own opinions to back down, but Magnus had come to understand, and even appreciate, the cocky warrior who was the supernova to his beloved Alec's dark star. 

As Jace settled into his seat, back ramrod straight, head held high, Crestwell approached, ready in his own subtle way to do battle with a hostile witness. "Mr. Heronale, please tell the Court when you first became aware that the Defendant, Magnus Bane, had taken a blood oath to break Clave and Coven law?

A wicked grin broke out over Jace's face and he responded; "I know Magnus' fashion sense is a bit extreme, but I honestly didn't think glitter was illegal!" 

The Chief Justice brought his gavel down sharply and admonished the witness that these proceedings were not a joking matter. Jace was advised to answer the questions put to him in a straight forward, sober manner if he did not wish to find himself in contempt of court. Izzy, in her seat behind the Defense table, tried to hide her smirk, and thought that this was perhaps the first time someone had openly expressed their contempt for this awful travesty of a trial. It may not help Magnus, but it was good to hear someone giving vent to the frustration Alec's family felt.

Jace looked fiercely at the Prosecutor, his face now devoid of any trace of the humour that graced it moments ago. "I was informed by Magnus Bane shortly after the spell had been successfully cast, and he had helped to save my Parabatai, Alec Lightwood from the greater demon, Hellequin."

A sly smile graced the Prosecutor's face as he pursued the advantage; "And why, when it was clearly your duty to do so, did you fail to inform the Clave of these facts?"  
Jace would dearly have loved to tell Crestwell that it was none of the Clave's business, that the existence of his Godson, Aiden, was a blessing to be rejoiced in, not a reason to call out the troops; but that would not fly in this tense, judgemental atmosphere. 

The Court seemed to hold its breath as they waited for Jace's answer, and he let them, taking his time, staring down Crestwell before he replied; "Because it was not the Clave's concern."

Chief Justice Gray brought his gavel down sharply as he called the court back to order and advised the witness he would be held in contempt of court if he did not answer the Prosecutor's questions properly.

"Are you asking this Court to believe;" Crestwell asked Jace, sarcasm heavy in his tone; "You are unaware that blood oaths, and spells to allow warlock's to bear children, are against Coven and Clave law?"

"I am aware that what you've said is true;" Jace responded calmly; "Unless the person doing those things has been given permission, carte blanche in fact, by the Coven, before the Accords existed." A small smile played on Jace's face as he heard the gasp from the spectators, and a murmur of surprise and consternation from the Justices.

Shocked as he was by this turn of events, Crestwell refused to back down. "You expect us to take your word that any such permission existed, that this isn't just a desperate attempt save your parabatai's husband?" The scorn with which the prosecutor spoke the final words, indicated to all those who heard him that day, just what he thought about shadowhunter/downworlder relationships. 

"No, I don't expect you to take me at my word;" Jace said, his voice all the more deadly and commanding for its calmness. "I have proof, as well as other witnesses who can testify to the truth of what I say." And, with those words, Jace began to tell the Court about Brother Armand, the former Cardinal Richelieu and High Warlock of Paris, who had come to warn the New York Institute about Magnus' half-sister Lucia, and the threat she represented. How the powerful warlock had recruited Magnus in the17th century, long before the Accords, and given him carte blanche to do whatever was necessary to get rid of the power-mad Lucia. Magnus had trapped his half-sister in a hell dimension, but not before being forced to give her a blood oath to help her conceive a child, and stay silent until the deed was done.

Once Jace finished recounting the events, as he had heard them from Brother Armand, the shadowhunter pulled a ancient parchment from his pocket and handed it to the nearest Justice. Crestwell was on his feet in an instant, objecting that a piece of evidence, not previously vetted by the prosecution was being introduced in this unorthodox manner! 

Chief Justice Gray, brought his gavel down sharply to call the Court to order, before advising the angry Crestwell that he would be given sufficient time to review the document, after the Justices verified its authenticity. Armand Jean Du Plessis de Richelieu was dead, but that did not mean there weren't magics that could be used to determine both what this document actually referred to, and if the former High Warlock of Paris wrote it. Before passing it off to one of the warlock Justices, Gray read the words written in an elaborate, elegant hand;

_**'By My Order, and for the good of the' Shadow World, 'the bearer has done what has been done.' *** _

Having dealt with the issue of the parchment, and in consideration of the lateness of the hour, Chief Justice Gray adjourned the Court for the day, telling Jace that he should hold himself in readiness, should Prosecutor Crestwell wish to examine him further. 

Crestwell, turned on his heel and stalked back to his table, grabbing the loose papers on top and stuffing them angrily into his briefcase. This had been an unexpected turn of events in a trial that he'd felt, until today, had been going very well. He was not sure what the warlock Justices would make of this 'carte blanche', should it prove legitimate. It was possible they would see the document as exonerating Magnus Bane, both for the blood oath and the illegal spell. Still, the warlocks only represented two out of five votes, he would have to work very hard to ensure he kept the three other Justices in his corner!

~~~~!!!!~~~~

It was just past 3:00 AM when Aidan Briosag was awakened from a restless sleep. Someone powerful was attacking the wards he had placed at one of the entrances to his beloved Edinburgh underground! Throwing off the bed covers, he snapped into his clothes, mumbling incantations that he hoped would prevent the wards from failing until he had gathered his forces to meet the threat. God, how he missed Hamish! His long-time second-in-command who had been killed at Eilean Donan. They had faced many challenges together and Aidan had come to trust Hamish's courage and loyalty. Protecting the Edinburgh downworld would be much harder without his old friend.

Morag's sleep tinged voice calling out to Aidan was the only sound that could have caused him to pause, so intent was he to get to the heart of the trouble. "Morag, mo ghraidh , we are under attack, go to the child and make sure everything is ready should you need to escape;" He kissed her briefly and then was out the door without even looking back...

***Note: This is the Note that Milady DeWinter was given by Cardinal Richelieu in Alexander Dumas' The Three Musketeers providing her carte blanche to kill d'Artagnan.**


	34. Chapter 34

The fighting in underground Edinburgh raged on for three days with neither side able to gain their ultimate objective. Vladimir Druganin and the Hellfire Club had been stalled by Aidan's downworlders and were no closer to obtaining the child than the day they'd breached Briosag's wards. The ancient vampire was furious about this lack of progress, but had to admit, the High Warlock of Edinburgh was a wily opponent; still, he would succeed in the end, it was only a matter of time. A steady stream of fresh recruits from the Hellfire Club meant that he could keep Briosag and his ragtag band contained. The warlocks Druganin brought kept a tight control on all the exits and provided dampening spells to prevent the creation of portals within the underground. Even fire messages would incinerate before reaching their intended destination.

Early that morning, Druganin had sent a message to the besieged defenders, offering to end the hostilities, allow Briosag to save whatever was left of his people, if he handed over the child. The cocky Scottish warlock had stripped Druganin's envoy to his underware, and sent him back with a rather rude note pinned to his chest. 

"It appears Aidan Briosag does not know what is in his own best interests;" Druganin said to his long-time friend and ally, Dante Serpens.

"I understand, we have the advantage," Serpens replied sighing heavily. The effort of keeping the underground cut off, from the outside world telling on the warlock's tense and tired face. "The longer this drags on, the more chance there is that the Edinburgh Institute will get wind of this;"

"You worry too much Dante!" Druganin said placing his large, cold hand on the warlock's shoulder. "I don't even think Briosag is delusional enough to expect the Edinburgh shadowhunters to come to his rescue. The Institute is in disarray, another head disgraced, and no new replacement named. Still, you do make a valid point, I want this matter settled as soon as possible. Do you have enough warlocks here to allow you to recues yourself from enforcing the dampening spells?"

"Y-yes, a couple more arrived this morning. What do you have in mind?"

A cruel smirk spread across Druganin's face; "I think we should be prepared to summon demonic assistance if Briosag should prove to be unreasonable, don't you?" And a cold, soulless laugh filled the stone chamber Druganin used as his base of operations....

~~~~!!!!~~~~

Deeper in the depths of the Edinburgh Underground, another conversation was occurring as an increasingly desperate Aidan Briosag assessed his situation. He and his downworlders had successfully stalled off the Hellfire Club, for now, but time was running out, and without assistance from the outside world, it was inevitable that the Hellfire Club would prevail. 

Aidan thought, sarcastically about the message from Druganin advising his downworlders that a half-shadowhunter baby was not worth their lives. When had the Clave done anything but persecute them, and hunt them? It was a line of persuasion geared to appeal specifically to his people, who had in fact suffered much at the hands of the rogue element in the Edinburgh Institute. Until Alec Lightwood had come, like an avenging angel, to shed a light on the injustice, and bring it to an end. Aidan's people might still regard the Clave with a certain, justifiable distrust, but not Alec Lightwood. 

The High Warlock of Edinburgh knew he could trust his people, vampire, warlock, werewolf and fairy. They co-existed peacefully in this unique place, embracing the diversity that separated the downworld in other cities. It had been necessary at first just to survive, but gradually strong bonds of friendship had enriched their lives, and it was Aidan's job to ensure that this vibrant community survived and thrived. 

He could not, would not, however, buy their safety with the life of an innocent child, he had to find another way. If he let one, warlock, vampire, werewolf, fairy... or half warlock/shadowhunter child die on his watch, then all the lessons of the past had been for nothing, and he did not deserve the trust his people placed in him. Aidan thought about Hamish, his friend, his brother-in-arms, who had struggled to accept Alec when the shadowhunter had come to Edinburgh, years ago, investigating the death of a downworlder. Suspicious, at first, Hamish had treated Alec as an enemy, but then moved past it to see he couldn't paint all shadowhunters with the same brush... if he didn't want to propagate the evil he'd been subjected to. 

All morning, the High Warlock had been wracking his brains, trying to find a way to get a message past the dampening spells that were effectively isolating the Edinburgh underground. He did not have the number of warlocks necessary to fight off the Hellfire Club's advances, and break through their blockade. Equally, any downworlder who tried to get through the heavily defended exits, would be cut down before they got more than two feet beyond the shelter of the stone steps. 

And then it hit him, a small glimmer of hope, a desperate chance to get a message out.... if she were willing.

~~~~!!!!!~~~~

Magnus paced the length of his tiny cell, torn between feelings of hope and despair. Over the last few days, the Prosecution had rested its case, confident, despite Richelieu's carte blanche that the defendant had broken enough Clave laws to warrant the death penalty. Three Justices were enough to convict him. Truthfully, Magnus didn't dare let himself hope too much, not when he remembered the ingrained prejudices the Nephilim held toward those different from themselves. Even the mundanes shadowhunters were sworn to protect, were often held in contempt for their weakness, as if the Clave had forgotten that they too had been human once, and shared the same mortality even now.

Magnus' Defense Attorney, Asher had called Catarina and Jace back to the stand to present a more balanced picture of the events, hopefully proving mitigating circumstances that might provide him some leeway with the Court. Heaving a heavy sigh, Magnus dropped down on the narrow cot that had been his only bed for some time now. He missed his large, colourful and insanely comfortable bed at home in New York. But, most of all, he missed his beloved Alec, whose letters were the only bright spot in this dismal place.

Alec wrote to him daily, long letters full of love and hope for the future. Magnus believed Alec's words were all that kept him going. He had lived a long time, seen many changes good and bad, had at one point felt himself begin to atrophy, as old warlock's were prone to do, until Alec walked into his life, with his bone-deep innocence, and recalled Magnus to life and love. And then there had been little Aiden! No matter how many laws were broken in his creation, Magnus could never, would never regret the birth of their beautiful baby boy.

The sound of the cell door opening interrupted Magnus' reverie, and he looked up to see Jessie Bradshaw, flanked by two other guards standing in the hallway just outside the cell.

"Time for Court, High Warlock Bane;" Jessie said giving Magnus his formal title. The scowls on the faces of the other two guards indicated their distaste for the idea of according any respect to an accused downworlder.

"Jessie, how is your daughter? Magnus asked knowing from previous conversations with his guard that Jessie's daughter was due to deliver the family's first grandchild any day.

"Oh, Magnus! Jessie replied, ignoring the critical presence of the two subordinate guards, who were required by the Courts of Assize to transport dangerous defendants to and from the cells. "My daughter has delivered a healthy, eight pound baby boy. Mother and child are doing well, but I wanted to ask.... we'd like to name the child Alexander Magnus... if you have no objections."

Magnus stopped dead in his tracks; "My husband and I would be honoured, Jessie;" he said, touched beyond measure by this man who had begun to represent what could be achieved when prejudice was set aside. The dark looks on the faces of the other guards at this exchange, told the warlock that distrust and prejudice were still alive and well in Idris.

Without further ado, the Guards took their positions around the prisoner and escorted him to the courtroom...


	35. Chapter 35

The courtroom buzzed with tension as the defendant was brought in surrounded by guards. Many of the spectators in the galleries came daily to see this spectacle of a trial, and wager on its outcome. At first, most assumed a guilty verdict was inevitable, laws had been broken after all, but gradually some of them got caught up in the dramatic story, and began to feel sympathy for the accused.

At last, the Justices marched in, and court was called to order. Magnus' Advocate, Asher, prepared to continue his case by calling Clary Fray to the stand. Even Magnus was a bit surprised by this, as Jace and Catarina had already testified to the events that led up to the birth of Aiden, and his subsequent kidnapping. What could Clary possibly add? Still, Asher had done very well so far, better in fact, than Magnus had expected, so he set his doubts aside, and waited with the rest of the Court to see what the faerie had up his sleeve. 

Clary walked quickly to the witness box, stopping only for a moment to give her oath to tell nothing but the truth. Shadowhunters testifying before the Court of Assize knew full well that the soul sword would be produced if their word was questioned. As she sat, calm and still, Clary watched Magnus' advocate approach ready to begin the questioning.

"Miss Fray;" Asher began; "Please tell the court how and where you grew up."

Before Clary could answer the question, prosecutor Crestwell was on his feet protesting that, however interesting Miss fray's background may be, it was hardly relevant to the matter at hand.

Chief Justice Gray looked sternly at Asher who hastened to assure the Judge that his line of questioning did have a point.

"I will grant you a little leeway;" Gray said, "But you had better get to the point, I will not have you waste the Court's time Advocate." 

Asher looked encouragingly at his witness, and Clary explained that she had grown up in New York City, raised as a mundane with no knowledge of the shadow world.

"Miss Fray, am I correct in assuming that mundanes have magic to help otherwise barren couples conceive a child?" Asher asked, a sly smile on his handsome face.

Crestwell was again on his feet objecting to this very strange, seemingly irrelevant line of questioning, and though the Chief Justice instructed the witness to answer, he advised Asher that he was on very thin ice and to get to the point quickly.

"Y-yes;" Clary agreed. "It's not magic, but mundane medicine can help couples, who are having trouble conceiving a child, get pregnant."

"Is it a hanging offense if they are caught using those methods to conceive?" Asher asked.

"No, of course not!" Clary responded, shocked by the suggestion.

"No, of course not," Asher reiterated; "The favoured of the Angels are souled, and have the right to bear children."

A muttering rose up in the gallery in response to this remark, and seeing the scowl on the Judges faces, Asher hastened to ask his next question; "Miss Fray, you are one of the very few shadowhunters who have ever been in the presence of the Angel Raziel, is that correct?"

"Y-yes" Clary replied, wondering, not for the first time, where Asher's questions were leading.

"Please tell the Court what Raziel's response was to Valentine's desire that the world be rid of demons and downworlders alike."

For Clary, the memory was visceral, as if the Angel's words were still ringing in her ears all these years later, and she said...

"The Angel told Valentine that Demons do not possess souls. But as for the creatures he spoke of, 'the Children of the Moon, Night, Lilith, and Faerie, all are souled.' Raziel said that Valentine's rules as to what 'does and does not constitute a human being were stricter than their own.' "* Clary answered, her voice strong and clear as the memories of that time returned to her. She saw again the great storm that had risen from Lake Lyn, at the centre of which rose the Angel, Raziel, his body marked with angelic runes, his great golden wings spread out behind him. He was both terrifying and beautiful, and it was a memory seared into Clary's consciousness in every detail, and for all time.

"Do you think that the Angel would be offended by the child of a souled shadowhunter and a souled downworlder, no matter how it was created Miss Fray?" Asher asked.

"No I do not!" Clary responded, voicing ringing out loud and clear in the now hushed courtroom.

Crestwell was on his feet, objecting that the witness' opinion should be stricken from the record, but Asher knew the damage had been done, the Judges could not un-hear Clarissa Fray's words, no matter how much they may have wanted to.

~~~~!!!!!~~~~

Heavily armed men slipped silently through the narrow passages to one of the least used entry points to the Edinburgh underground. Led by High Warlock Aidan Briosag, these men would give their lives, if that's what it took, to save the sanctuary they called home. Huddled unobtrusively among them was a slight, pale woman. Her name was Wren, and she was an Ifrit, a warlock with no magic, shunned by the mundane for her warlock mark, and by the warlocks for her lack of power. 

Aidan had found Wren, many years ago, living a life of misery and isolation with her mundane mother. He recognized the pale blue scales that adorned Wren's neck for what they were, and offered the pair sanctuary in the Edinburgh underground under his own personal protection. Even among the downworld, differences could be treated harshly, but with Aidan's help the pair had been accepted and forged a better life in the Edinburgh underground. And when Wren's mortal mother passed away, Aidan was there, to support her through the loss, a brother in all but blood.

Wren did not consider herself brave, nor did she have magic to use if cornered, but when Aidan came to her and explained how she might be the means of saving the underground, she didn't hesitate. Aidan and his men would create a distraction, and she would slip out, her status as an Ifrit meaning she wouldn't trip the Hellfire Club's wards.

As soon as Aidan's men reach the entrance, they engage the enemy, fighting fiercely to ensure Druganin's men believed this was a legitimate attempt to break out. Aidan gave Wren a small signal that it was time, and she moved stealthily past the fighters, disappearing into the dark Edinburgh streets. 

Looking back frequently, terrified that she was being followed, Wren made her way out of the city, into the surrounding countryside. It was even darker here with no street lights or bright windows to lift the gloom. Wren had rarely been outside the Edinburgh underground, preferring to spend her time in safe, familiar surroundings. Aidan made sure she knew how to get to the small, thatched roof cottage of Jenny Bone, quizzing her endlessly until she had the directions firmly in her mind. 

When Wren arrived, the cottage looked deserted, derelict, and for one brief moment she was afraid that this desperate trip had been in vain. Before Wren could raise her hand to knock however, the door swung open on squeaking hinges and she saw, a small, bird-like woman with wild black hair, light green eyes and what appeared to be bat wings fluttering from her shoulder blades, standing before her.  
"A-are you Jenny Bone?" Wren asked.

"Who wants to know? Jenny responded, brusquely. In her experience, visitors at this time of night rarely meant good news.

"I-I'm Wren;" The girl stammered, and when this didn't elicit any response from Miss Bone, she hastily added; "Aidan Briosag sent me, he needs your help!"

"Well, why didn't you say so at once!" Jenny scolded, ushering her visitor into the, cozy cluttered lounge just beyond the cottage's front door. A snap of the warlock's fingers saw all the candles lit and a cheery fire spring up on the hearth.

Wren wasted no time in telling Jenny about the dire situation in the Edinburgh underground, and was relieved when the warlock indicated she would take Aidan's message to the New York Institute. A scant few minutes later, Wren sat in an arm chair by the fire, a cup of tea steaming nearby, as she watched Jenny Bone disappear through the swirling green portal on the opposite wall.

***Note: Cassandra Clare - City of Glass - Raziel to Valentine**


	36. Chapter 36

The glimmering green portal was just beginning to dissipate as Jenny Bone got slowly to her feet. She hated portal travel, and avoided it whenever possible, hence her rather awkward exit in a dark alley near the New York Institute. Walking quickly, she soon reached the street, taking a few minutes to orient herself and stare at the vibrant, busy city around her. Just a block from the alley, she saw the heavily glamoured façade of the shadowhunter Institute. No time for sightseeing though, Jenny had a message to deliver.

The persistent ringing of the doorbell brought an irritated Isabelle Lightwood down to the sanctuary at a trot. Throwing open the door, the shadowhunter's eyes widened in surprise; "Jenny Bone, what on earth are you doing in New York?" She gasped. 

The last time Izzy had seen Jenny was several years ago, when Alec had been called to Edinburgh to investigate a downworld murder. She would never forget the awe, bordering on hero worship, the warlock evinced toward Magnus Bane, nor her bold mentions of Magnus' infamous father, a subject the High Warlock of Brooklyn never willingly discussed.

"I have an urgent message from Aidan Briosag!" Jenny stated as she stepped across the threshold. "Gather the troops, there is no time to lose!" 

~~~~!!!!~~~~

The Court of Assize had been in session since early that morning. Advocate Crestwell delivered the first of the closing arguments, advising the Justices that the defendant, Magnus Bane had in fact been guilty of all the charges against him. Bane had stolen the illegal spell from the Silent brothers, bought the necessary ingredients from Janus Dark, and allowed his demonic sister, Lucia Draggotta to bear the child of a marked shadowhunter and a warlock. The Advocate insisted that this was but one of many incidents involving Magnus Bane that indicated his contempt for the Clave and Coven alike. The warlock's acquisition of the Malfactorum, a spell book allegedly written by Asmodeus, Prince of Hell, and considered highly illegal, was a case in point.

At the defense table, the mention of his father's spell book, which Magnus purchased from Janus Dark, brought his mind back to the time when he had been desperate to find a way to defeat Lucia, and rescue his innocent child. Magnus was well aware that using the Malfactorum broke all kinds of Clave and Coven laws, but failing to stop Lucia, and save Aiden had not been an option. As it happened, it was a spell from that evil book which helped to defeat his deranged sister. Magnus shuddered, slightly as he thought about some of the magic outlined in that deadly, little volume, which was, even now securely hidden in his New York loft. He had always intended to destroy the book once Lucia was defeated, but life with his beloved husband and new child intervened, it seemed the path to hell really was paved with good intentions.

Magnus mind was brought abruptly back to the present, as Crestwell continued with his closing arguments. The advocate stated that, although the Court might be tempted to be lenient with the defendant, whose husband was held captive by Draggotta at the time, that same husband was a shadowhunter who'd accepted the responsibilities of his calling, which included accepting death rather than give into the forces of evil. Magnus Bane had ignored his husband's higher calling and should be punished accordingly.

Magnus glanced over at his advocate as he listened to Crestwell's impassioned arguments, and was somewhat amused to see the Fairie roll his eyes. Most downworlders failed to understand the shadowhunter's preoccupation with 'honourable death'. The warlock knew that, in Alec's case, it was based in a real desire to serve, and a dedication to helping others, mundanes, and downworlders alike. His Alec made no distinction, having learned that much of the shadowhunter prejudice he'd been exposed to as a child was, just that, prejudice based on ignorance.

As the Crestwell's last words died away, Asher rose to give his own closing arguments. While passing his client, the advocate allowed a slim, elegant hand to drop down and squeeze Magnus' shoulder. It was a gesture of comfort, unusual for the mercurial fairie. He moved to the center of the courtroom and stared up at the Justices for a few moments before beginning, not in fear or awe, but as though he was weighing them, and then he began...

"High Warlock, Magnus Bane has been working for better relations between all members of the shadow world since before the Accords, or even this Court, existed. He came to the aid of the shadowhunters twice when Valentine threatened to bring his poisonous ideals to bear, and was the first warlock representative on the shadowhunter Council. Yet, despite all his years of service to the Clave, because he is a warlock, he is distrusted, viewed as less;" Asher paused scanning the gallery, as well as the Justices's dias, as if challenging those present, and shaming them for their failure to acknowledge the sacrifices of any but shadowhunters. He could not address the issue of the Malfactorum directly, Magnus really had purchased the spell book after all, but Asher hoped to be able mitigate the act by stressing Magnus' obvious support for the Accords, and long service to the shadow world."

The Advocate then took some time to review the charges against his Client, specifically Magnus' stealing of the spell required to create a child, and then impregnating his half sister Lucia. Asher reminded the Court that none of that would have happened if the High Warlock of Paris, Richelieu, had not asked Magnus to deal with his dangerous relative. In addition, Richelieu had given Magnus carte blanche to do whatever was necessary to gain that end, and in the absence of any higher authority (the Accords were not in place at the time) it could hardly be considered illegal.

"Mundane history;" The Advocate continued; "has given us many fine examples of intolerance that was fanned into the flames of bloody persecution and violence. In 1692 the Salem Witch trials commenced, and the broken bodies of its helpless victims were hung for all to see. Even more recently we saw the death and destruction brought about by a shadowhunter who believed that downworlders were no better than demons, to be hunted and killed. That same shadowhunter summoned the Angel Raziel confident that his plans would please heaven."

Asher again paused briefly as if listening to the profound silence that gripped the courtroom. "This Court has heard the testimony of the only living witness to that historic meeting. I believe that when Raziel said to Valentine; '... as for the creatures you speak of, the Children of Moon, Night, Lilith, and Faerie, all are souled. It seems that your rules as to what does and does not constitute a human being are stricter that our own.' He gave us not only the truth, but a path forward."

"In conclusion, Your Honours, it seems to me you have two choices before you; one is to uphold an biased law and condemn the warlock before you to death. Knowing if you do so that you are also condemning an innocent child to the same fate, and destroying the life of the young shadowhunter who loves them both. The second option is to condemn this unjust law, recognize that the child in question is souled and deserves your protection, and vacate the charges against my client."

Asher turned and walked slowly back to the defense table, he had done all he could, and now it was up to the five Justices, who rose as one, and left the courtroom to begin their deliberations....


	37. Chapter 37

The fighting in the Edinburgh Downworld had gone from skirmishes at the entrances, while Aidan Briosag and Vladimir Druganin negotiated for Aiden Lightwood-Bane to be given over to the Hellfire Club, to all-out fighting, street, by underground street. Anyone who really knew the High Warlock of Edinburgh, knew he would never sacrifice a child, an innocent, to the likes of the Hellfire Club. Negotiations had bought some time, nothing else. If Briosag thought about it, it wasn't that Druganin's words, encouraging him to consider the needs of the many, didn't resonate on some level; but the High Warlock was also a firm believer in the old adage, if you stand for nothing, you fall for anything, and some prices were just too high to pay.

It had taken the crucible of shadowhunter intolerance, and physical isolation to form the haven of the Edinburgh underground, where all manner of downworders formed a bond of solidarity unknown elsewhere. Vampire, werewolf, warlock and faerie lived in this unique place as friends and allies, and Aidan knew they would stand together to protect the half warlock, half shadowhunter child of Magnus Bane and Alexander Lightwood, not because he asked it of them, but because it was the right thing to do. 

Aidan had just returned to his headquarters, a fortified building behind the last barricade at the heart of the underground. Taking this position would cost Druganin dearly, even if no help arrived to relieve the defenders. Exhaustion sat heavily in every line of Briosag's body. He was easily the most powerful warlock in the Edinburgh underground, and a s such used his power unstintingly to counteract Druganin's forces. It pained him to see the damage caused by the fighting as the Hellfire Club gradually pushed the defenders back. street, by hard-fought street. The shattered remains of buildings now blocked many of the narrow lanes, and were used by Briosag's men to ambush their attackers, who were not nearly as familiar with the terrain. Still, numbers and supplies were on the Hellfire Club's side, and all Aidan could do was fight and pray that help came before it was too late.

~~~~!!!!~~~~

Vladimir Druganin had superior forces, and access to supplies which meant that, if help did not arrive soon, Aidan Briosag would lose this fight. Time, however was not truly on the ancient vampire side either. The longer the battle raged, the more likely the Clave would notice something was amiss and investigate. He had just received word of the latest advances made by his troops, and the progress was painfully slow. Growling in frustration, he summoned Serpens.

He hated removing the warlock from the battle front, knowing that Serpens was the only warlock under his command capable of handling Briosag, but it was time to risk more drastic action, and for that he needed his old friend and Circuitor.

Dante Serpens strode into the room, anxious to know what had occasioned this abrupt summons. 

"Dante!" Druganin barked; "I have seen the latest reports, the battle is taking too long, the time has come to summon the demonic assistance we spoke of."

"Very well;" Serpens responded. "I will call Belial, he is familiar with the Hellfire Club, and no doubt will enjoy revenging himself on Briosag for sending him back to Edon the last time."

"You are comfortable that you can control him?" Druganin asked. He had been aware of the greater demon's participation in the Hellfire Club under McKenzie, but had not particularly liked the fact. Lesser demons, who could cater to the depraved tastes of some of the club members, was as far as the vampire had been willing to go when he was first Abbot. Gerard McKenzie, however, had the breathtaking arrogance that often characterized powerful shadowhunters, and believed himself capable of managing a greater demon. 

"Yes, old friend. I summoned Belial for McKenzie, I have studied his power, his nature. I can ensure the demon does what we require, and then I will return him to Edom. I know you have no desire to allow a greater demon a more permanent role in the Hellfire Club;" Serpens said, his voice low, earnest; "That foolishness died with McKenzie."

Druganin nodded, satisfied that Serpens understood the parameters around which this summoning would be done. He was confident that the chance to revenge himself against Briosag would be enough to tempt Belial to assist them. Enough in fact to lure the greater demon without any need for further promises; promises that might prevent Belial's precipitous return to the demon dimension. Druganin had no intentions of allowing his dangerous ally to remain any longer than absolutely necessary.

Dante Serpens made his preparations under the watchful eyes of the Abbot, a man he had served for centuries. The summoning itself would be no problem, it was ensuring that Belial could be contained, commanded, that was the tricky part. Still, Serpens was a powerful and experienced warlock, and soon the silence of the room was broken by soft muttering. Harsh, guttural words flowed from the warlock's mouth and wisps of black, sulphurous smoke began to swirl and coalesce in the center of the pentagram. 

As the warlock's words died away, a tall, powerfully built man appeared. The skin on his hands and face was dark, almost black, but his eyes blazed with demonic power. One large, claw-tipped hand pushed back the hood of the blood red robe that covered his enormous body, and revealed the thin, articulated spiders legs that sprouted from his head, and seemed to serve him instead of hair.

"Who has dared to summon Belial?" The demon roared breaking the tense silence of that awful room...

~~~~!!!!~~~~

Magnus sat quietly in his tiny cell where he had been returned, pending the outcome of the Judges' deliberations. It had been so long since he'd last seen is beloved Alec, and the loss felt like the ache of a severe wound that would not heal. He thought about his long, eventful life and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the best part of it had been the brief few years he'd had Alexander Gideon Lightwood in it. 

Though he didn't like to dwell on it, Magnus realized that a guilty verdict would mean the swift carrying out of his sentence, there was no appeal from the Court of Assize. He also knew was it was unlikely that he'd be allowed to see Alec before his execution.  
To distract himself from such grim thoughts, he read and re-read all Alec's letters. Beacons of hope in this grim place. 

At times the warlock's mind also drifted to little Aiden, and he wondered what the boy's life would be like if Magnus was found guilty. The warlock knew his friends would do whatever they could to protect Aiden and keep him safe, but what kind of life would it be to always have to hide, to know that there were powerful people in the world who would kill you, if they found you? 

And what of the price that Alec would pay, stripped of his marks and exiled from his home and family. Magnus had once had the misfortune to hear the anguished screams of a shadowhunter being stripped of his marks. It had left a lasting impression, an indelible mark on his soul.

The days seemed to run into each other as Magnus waited for news of his fate. Numerous times he picked up his pen to write a final letter to Alec, but words failed him. What could he possibly say to ease his husband's pain? Even the act of putting pen to paper seemed like giving up, accepting that he was doomed to follow in the footsteps of all those other witches executed in the name of irrational fear and prejudice.

At last he heard footsteps and the sound of his cell door being opened. The guard, Jesse Bradshaw greeted Magnus with a nod. They had become friendly over the course of Magnus' incarceration. 

"The Judges have finished their deliberations, Magnus;" Bradshaw said; "I'm to take you up to the courtroom."

Magnus made no comment, just rose to follow the guard out of the cell.

"In case I don't get to say this later, Magnus, I just want you to know I hope things go your way today." Bradshaw spoke quietly as he led the way into the hallway where two other guards waited to escort Magnus to the Court....


	38. Chapter 38

Aidan Briosag awoke from a light, restless sleep, every nerve tingling with alarm. He could hear the sounds of fighting in the distance, but still, closer than they'd been when he closed his eyes. There was a new strange, sound to the battle that hadn't been there before, and he supposed that was what woke him. Rising hastily he grabbed weapons and made his way out of the building. He would dearly have loved to stop and see Morag, make sure she and little Aiden were secure, but that was a luxury of time he didn't have.

"Report!" Aidan barked as his new second in command came into view. God, he missed Hamish who had served him so long they could finish each other's sentences. Grimwald, a young vampire was a talented and able replacement, but they were still getting used to each other and it wasn't fair to compare him to Hamish who Aidan had known for centuries.

"Druganin has had a demon summoned, we are taking heavy casualties." Grimwald reported. "I was just coming to get you."

"Damn!" Aidan swore softly before switching to his native Gaelic to outline just what he'd like to do to the Hellfire club in general, and Druganin in particular. "Any idea what kind of demon they've unleashed?" he asked.

"It's that one they had at Eilean Donan, the one that killed Hamish." Grimwald said.

"Belial!" Aidan hissed. This was bad news indeed. The greater demon had been difficult to subdue when he'd had the powerful Magnus Bane by his side, now he was alone, and already depleted from protecting the underground. 

"A-Adian...;" A soft voice spoke from behind the High Warlock, and he turned to see Morag Nightshade standing there. From the look on her face, Aidan knew she had heard his conversation with Grimwald. "I'm coming with you. It will take more than one warlock to deal with Belial. I know I'm a healer, not a fighter, but this is my home too and Hamish was my friend."

"What about the child?" He asked wanting to find a reason to deny her, to keep her safe.

"I've left him with two of the vampire nurses, they know what to do in the event the Hellfire Club breaks through our defenses."

Aidan looked at her beautiful, stubborn face and knew that he had a better chance to beat Belial with her, than without her. A brief nod was all he could trust himself to give, and then they were running, toward the sounds of battle, toward the future, whatever that would be....

~~~~!!!!~~~~

Alexander Lightwood paced the length of his mother's downtown Alicante loft, or prison, as he had come to think of it. This time of waiting and uncertainty had not been kind to the young husband and father. His face, thinner now, wore a haunted, gloomy look matching the heavy thunder clouds that had threatened the city since daybreak.

His mother, and sometimes Clary, Izzy or Jace depending on who was visiting, kept him apprized of the trial and news from the New York Institute, but the frustration of being powerless to help his loved ones grew more and more intolerable as the days passed. The only respite came from the intense training he continued to do in his mother's home gym. 

A knock on the door, startled Alec from his dark thoughts, and, as he moved to admit his visitor, he heard the first rolls of thunder heralding the coming storm. Standing in the hallway was his father, Robert Lightwood Inquisitor for the Clave, his face grim, his eyes shadowed with pain and anger.

Stepping aside to allow the older man to enter, Alec asked anxiously; "What's happened, has the Court returned a verdict?"

"N-no, no not yet;" Robert stammered slightly, understanding how this sudden visit must look to his son, and knowing that the news he brought would be just as unwelcome. "I have news from New York, about Aiden...;"

"F-from New York? is Aidan in New York, is he alright;" Alec interrupted as a thrill of anxiety ratcheted up his spine. 

"Alec, listen carefully, there is not much time!;" Robert responded urgently before Alec could interrupt again. Quickly, he advised is son of the terrible news from Edinburgh. As Inquisitor, Robert had the authority to release Alec from house arrest, although doing so would probably end his career. "Jace, Izzy, and some of the other shadowhunters from the New York Institute are on their way to Edinburgh. I understand that some of the New York Downworld leaders are also sending help. I'm releasing you from house arrest Alec, Catarina Loss is downstairs, she will open a portal to Edinburgh." 

The look on Alec's face told Robert all he needed to know. "Go and save my grandson! Your mother and I will stand with Magnus while the Court deliberates." A sudden swirl of his stele released the wards that had confined Alec. "I took the liberty of collecting some weapons for you, they are in the hallway."

The look of gratitude on his son's face was all the thanks Robert needed. Whatever happened next, he knew he would not regret his actions this day.

~~~~!!!!~~~~

It was the witching hour, 3:00 am when the swirling green magic of a portal opened next to the Witch Trials Memorial on the Royal Mile. The shadowhunters of the New York Institute, and a cadre of vampires and werewolves led by Lilly and Maia tumbled out followed by Jenny Bone. 

Dusting himself off from a rather rough landing, Jace turned to Jenny Bone and said; "You aren't going to insist on blindfolding us this time, are you?" Several years ago Jenny had brought himself, Izzy and Magnus to the Witch Trials Memorial, where they had been blindfolded before being taken on to the Edinburgh underground. It was their first meeting with Aidan Briosag, and relations between the shadowhunters and downworld in the city had necessitated tight security. Still he could not imagine Jenny leading this number of people blindfolded into the tunnels, it would take forever.

"Don't be silly!" Jenny snapped. "We are waiting for two more to join us though, so keep your shirt on." She could see the tension in every line of Jace's body, and knew he was anxious to get moving. Delay for any reason seemed intolerable; well, Jenny thought, they would have plenty of action soon enough, and she suspected he would not begrudge this short wait once he knew who was coming.

The faint glimmerings of another portal formed on the wall nearby and two people emerged. Jace was the first to recognize his parabatai and moved to greet Alec with a warm hug. 

"By the angel, it's good to see you..." He said.

"Has the Court returned a verdict? Is Magnus free?" Izzy interrupted.

Alec took a deep breath; "No, father told me what was happening, and released me. Let's get moving."

Without another word, the group fell into line behind Jenny Bone, several of them mumbling greetings and expressions of support to Alec as they did so. He was more than grateful for this show of strength and support from New York. It seemed like a life time ago that he was at the Institute, training Josh, Ian and Shivvy; attending meetings with Lilly and Maia to work out downworld/Clave issues, and living a blessed life with Magnus and Aiden. Suddenly, he felt Jace's hand on his shoulder, offering strength, support, anything he needed at this difficult time, and he knew that the fate of his precious little family was important. These wonderful people had come at a moment's notice to help, and he was humbled.

Jenny led the group to a cleverly concealed entrance to the underground. She had to disable a few pesky wards before they could continue in. Jace and Alec dealt swiftly with the Hellfire club's guards. It was almost a relief to allow the years of elite training to explode into action.


	39. Chapter 39

The New York shadowhunters picked their way through narrow, partially blocked lanes. The rubble of ruined shops and houses spilling out over the street, a clear indication of the fierce fighting that had occurred. Eerie, smokeless fires, from blasts of warlock magic, and perhaps something more demonic, still burned in some of the buildings and cast strange shadows across the Edinburgh underground. 

Alec shivered slightly as he surveyed the damage to the once vibrant, bustling centre of the Edinburgh downworld. The Hellfire club had come here with every intention of forcing Aidan Briosag to give them Alec's son, and if the High Warlock refused to do so willingly, they would tear the world down around him. But the price of such defiance was high, and Alec saw the evidence of it all around him. 

A sudden blast of scarlet magic startled Alec out of his gloomy thoughts, they must have attracted the attention of a small group of scouts guarding Druganin's flank. Jace and Izzy raced headlong into the fight as usual, and Alec, bow at the ready, shot arrow after deadly arrow protecting their backs. Even with the assistance of a warlock, the Hellfire scouts buckled under the fierce onslaught of the New Yorkers. Lilly and Maia making sure that none escaped to warn Druganin of their arrival.

Skirmish dealt with, Jace proceeded to scramble up some nearby rubble and swing himself onto the half roof of a two-storey house, the back of which melted into the great underground tunnel. From that vantage he was able to see the battle that raged around Aidan's headquarters. Sliding quickly back down to street level, Jace reported; "The Hellfire club has summoned Belial, Aidan's in a really tight spot. I wish Magnus were here, it might even the odds a little!"

"We're going to have to be enough to even the odds!" Alec replied. "Let's move out." Without another word, they all fell into line and moved swiftly to close the distance between themselves and the desperate defenders. 

~~~~!!!!~~~~

Magnus Bane, flanked by two guards made his way through the courtroom to the defense table where Asher was already seated. A quick glance to the side told him that Robert and Maryse Lightwood were in their customary seats, but unaccompanied by either Jace or Izzy. It caused a slight flutter of unease in Magnus stomach, was there some problem in New York, some danger to the Institute? He glanced toward his Advocate, but, as usual, the Faerie's face was unreadable.

Before Magnus could open his mouth to ask about any news from New York, a side door at the front of the courtroom opened and the five Justices entered. Chief Justice Gray called the room to order before seating himself and addressing the accused.

"Magnus Bane, please rise." Gray said, pausing for a moment to allow the defendant to obey his command, and giving a brief acknowledgement to Asher who also stood in support of his client; "You have been charged with the following crimes; stealing an illegal spell from the Silent Brothers of Mont Saint-Michel, using that illicit magic to impregnate a warlock, and then concealing the product of that magic, a warlock/shadowhunter child."

It seemed that the atmosphere of the courtroom crackled with tension as those present waited anxiously to hear the Chief Justice's next words. Some were sure the prosecutor had made his case, and were only waiting to see what punishment the Court would mete out to this renegade warlock, who seemed to believe the rules did not apply to him. Others prayed that the Court would take a different view, would see that perhaps the law itself was unjust and should be stricken down, not the defendant.

Magnus stood, tall and silent waiting to hear what the fate of his small family would be. Execution for himself? Stripping of his angelic runes for Alec? A life of fear and secrecy for Aiden? At times, as Magnus sat in his cell, he had felt as though this day would never come, but it was here now, and in the next few moments, he would perhaps wish it was not.

Chief Justice Gray's voice rang out; "In regards to the charge of stealing an illegal spell from the Silent Brothers of Mont Saint-Michel, it is our judgement that the defendant is not guilty;" A gasp from the courtroom caused Gray to spend the next few minutes brining the spectators back to order, before he could continue. " In so far as no physical evidence was presented to this Court proving that Magnus Bane either entered the library, or accessed the spell book. Subsequent events prove that the warlock had knowledge of the spell, but the source of that knowledge is undetermined, and cannot be tied to this charge of theft. We are unanimous."

'We are unanimous', that phrase was music to Asher's ears. He placed a hand on Magnus' shoulder, it was the least of the charges against his client, but that at least had been vacated by the Court. A glance at Advocate Crestwell's face said he did not find the Judges' ruling anywhere near as satisfactory. 'We are unanimous', was the phrase that meant all the Judges agreed, and there could be no appeal. 

"As to the charge of using illicit magic to impregnate a warlock, this Court finds the defendant, Magnus Bane guilty..."

The courtroom again erupted in chaos, everyone, it seemed, had an opinion, a side they were rooting for. The Chief Justice's gavel hammered the bench until order was re-established. "I will clear this Courtroom should any repeat of this unseemly behaviour occur;" Gray growled. His pronouncement was greeted by the profound silence that only happens when people are desperate know what is about to transpire, and fear any noise might prevent them from finding out.

Taking a deep breath, Jason Gray continued; "That the defendant is guilty of impregnating another warlock, is mitigated by the fact that he was given 'carte blanche' for a blood oath, prior to the existence of any Accords between the downworld and the shadowhunters. He was, therefore, not bound by either Clave or Coven law and cannot be subjected to the punishment of either. We are unanimous."

The spectators were again tempted to erupt into a spontaneous reaction, but a stern look from Chief Justice Gray was enough to quell their enthusiasm. 

"And finally, and perhaps most importantly, the charge of hiding the infant that resulted from the use of the aforementioned illicit spell. It is the opinion of this Court that any law which decrees an innocent child forfeit should be stricken from the books. The Angel Raziel has stated unequivocally that mundanes, shadowhunters and downworlders are souled, and as such they should have equal protection under the laws that govern this Court. It is our recommendation that the charges brought against Magnus Bane, and by extension his son and husband be vacated, and removed from the books. We are unanimous."

At this point, even the stern visage of Chief Justice Jason Gray could not prevent the eruption of the spectators in the courtroom. While some were unhappy with the verdict, the majority seemed to be expressing their overall approval of the proceedings. 

Asher turned to his client, who still seemed to be trying to take in the fact that he and his family were free, and gave him a brief hug. "Perhaps there is progress after all, no witches will be burned today." 

"Congratulations Magnus!" 

"I knew you would be found not guilty!"

"Glad to see the Court got it right, about time!"

Shouts of support came from every side, but all Magnus could do was slip into his seat and try to deal with the rush of emotion; he was free, Alec and Aiden were safe, and then he saw the looks on Robert and Maryse's faces and his blood froze....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this story is nearly complete another chapter or two at the most! It may take a couple of weeks before I post, I no longer have any banked chapters, and I don't want to let the story down by rushing the end. Hope you guys will forgive any delays.


	40. Chapter 40

The courtroom was now silent and dark, long since emptied of the tense, excited crowd that had come to witness an extraordinary trial. The crowd, the witnesses, the judges, the accused, all had gone, their own individual lives calling them back to more personal and pressing matters, all but one. In a small office tucked away from the bustle of the busier corridors sat Asher. He had spent the intervening hours since the end of the trial finishing up his notes on the proceedings and packing up his files. He would not be sorry to leave the cramped, nondescript little offices assigned to all advocates who were appearing before the Court of Assize. His own office at home was much more opulent.  
Asher was glad to have had this short time to himself, it had been a stressful trial, and despite his customary air of confidence and calm, he had by no means been sure of success. If he had failed, it might well have meant the execution of Magnus Bane, perhaps one of the strongest and most important warlocks in existence. His death would have sent shockwaves through the downworld, especially if it had been at the hands of the Court of Assize.

It seemed to Asher that this acquittal might actually be a sign of greater understanding and acceptance between the different groups that comprised the shadow world. Though, being a member of the highly political Seelie Court, he knew better than to allow himself to get carried away by flights of optimism. Old fears and frustrations were always at risk of being fanned into the flames of hatred and persecution. Still, today had been a victory and Asher would take those when he could. The Court of Assize had done its job, and justice for the shadow world was served. No witches had been burned on his watch.

Idly, the faerie wondered what news had reached his client, that necessitated such an abrupt departure? Some peoples’ lives were just brimming with excitement, Asher supposed. The intrigue of his Queen’s Court was more than enough of a headache to deal with in his books. She would be very interested in the outcome of this trial, and he would need to be very careful how he presented the facts. One never quite knew what would trigger her mercurial temper. Sighing, the faerie lifted his box of files, turned off the lights and headed out of the building into the early evening crowds in Angel Square. The street lights were beginning to glimmer, as the restaurants did a brisk business. Strains of music, carried on light evening breezes from the open windows of neighborhood pubs, gave the place a festive atmosphere. Asher thought he might as well stop for dinner before returning to Court, a good meal and perhaps some champagne to mark the occasion… 

~~~~!!!!~~~~

Nightfall had also reached Edinburgh where Magnus Bane, directed by Wren, arrived at the entrance to the underground. Turning to his intrepid guide Magnus said; “This is as far as it is safe for you to go.”

“B-but I want to help…” The girl began, frustration written large on her expressive face.

“You have done your part.” Magnus interrupted, a hand raised to forestall further argument. “Your bravery in getting the information to Jenny Bone will not be forgotten. I am more grateful to you than I can express. It is time however for me to take up this fight. Return to Jenny’s cottage, word will reach you there, I promise.”

Reluctantly, Wren nodded her head. She knew when it was pointless to argue. “I will pray for your success High Warlock!” And, with that slipped away into the darkness.

Magnus entered the Edinburgh underground. Almost immediately he saw signs of the heavy fighting that had occurred, stone rubble remained where store fronts had once stood, as well as bodies from both sides of the conflict. There was no time, however, to think about the tragedy implicit in these awful scenes. He had to get to Alec and Aiden, and prayed he was not too late.

Magnus quickly made his way through the ruins of the underground guided as much by the sounds of battle as his knowledge of the place from previous visits. At last he arrived at a large open area, at the far end of which stood the home of Aidan Briosag, which served as both a dwelling, and meeting place where civic issues were resolved. The site of that stone building wrenched at Magnus’ heart. His son was there, and it was all he could do not to ignore the chaos in front of him and race headlong into the building. 

In the space of the next second, Magnus’ eyes found Alec, the shadowhunter and his parabatai were heavily engaged with several of the hellfire club, mostly vampires and werewolves, but there were a few fellow shadowhunters in the mix. It struck Magnus, not for the first time, how seamlessly Alec and Jace worked together, each anticipating the others’ next move; an intricate, deadly dance. Again, he had to resist the urge to race to Alec’s side. This was not where he was most needed.

At last, Magnus eyes focused on Aidan Briosag, and the battle that would, in all likelihood, determine the outcome of this day. He saw a clearly exhausted Aidan still bravely squared off against the greater demon, Belial. The high Warlock was flanked by the healer Catarina Loss. Neither warlock looked to be making much head way in the battle, but at least they were keeping the demon’s focus off the rest of the combatants. At the sight of Belial, a huge fury swept over Magnus born of fear for his son and Alec, and from the sense of helplessness he’d suffered during his recent imprisonment…

At the far edge of the battle ground, stood the dark figures of Vladimir Druganin and his second-in-command, Dante Serpens. Neither man had noticed the arrival of Magnus Bane, or they might not have been as sanguine about the prospect of an imminent victory.

“Briosag can’t hold out much longer.” Serpens said, voice raised so he could be heard over the din of battle. The warlock had stepped away from the fighting, feeling that things were well in hand, Belial would finish Briosag shortly, and could then turn his formidable attention to the rest of the battle.

“High time, too;” Druganin snarled. “I had thought Briosag would be more reasonable, when there was no chance of success. The New York shadowhunters were a bit of a surprise, but in the end even they could not change the outcome. I do wish Belial would stop playing with his food and get on with it though.”

Suddenly, an enormous blast of bright blue magic erupted sending Belial to his knees.  
“What the hell….” Druganin shouted, his eyes widening as he focused on the source of the blast. “Bane! No! How can this be! The Clave should be planning his execution! Come Dante! It is time we put an end to these fools once and for all!” And with that the tall, ancient vampire waded into the fiercest fighting intending to cut a bloody path to Belial and shore up his greatest weapon. Their way, however was suddenly blocked by two powerful shadowhunters, a supernova and his dark star…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but I am about 2 chapters to the end... so I promise I will finish this story. It may take a couple of weeks per that last two chapters because they are not written yet, and I want them to be perfect. Thank you everyone who has followed, favourited and commented on this story, and the others in the series, you guys are the best!


	41. Chapter 41

Dante Serpens barely had time to get off a shot of magic before Jace and Alec were on him. He had fought a number of shadowhunters in his long life, but none who rivalled this pair for speed or ferocity. They each seemed to know instinctively where the other was and what the other would do. Long as his acquaintance with Druganin had been, he and the Abbot had never possessed the degree of intimacy required for such a beautiful, deadly dance. It was a pity he would not get to watch it from a safer distance. 

The warlock stepped back the several paces necessary to allow for another blast of magic directed at Jace, leaving Druganin to deal with Alec Lightwood. It had surprised Serpens to see the man here instead of locked up in Idris. Still, one or two additional shadowhunters would not derail the Abbot’s plans. Those were the warlock’s last coherent thoughts as found himself fully engaged by the blonde shadowhunter.

Alec’s seraph blade swiped the air millimetres from Druganin’s neck. It was only the vampire’s long years of experience and instinct that saved him from the shadowhunter’s lightning quick assault. Faster than could be followed by the human eye, the ancient vampire moved behind Alec, raising as he did so a large, curved-bladed dagger that he intended to bury in his opponent’s back. Druganin’s vicious forward thrust was stopped abruptly, however, when an electrum whip wrapped itself around his wrist. 

Druganin growled in frustration as he grabbed the end of the whip and used his massive strength to yank Isabelle Lightwood off her feet and send her flying into her startled brother. The Abbot would teach these annoying shadowhunters who they were dealing with!

With the grace of a dancer, and the reflexes of a ninja, Alec caught Izzy and allowed her to use him as a spring board, catapulting her back into the fight. Alec knew from long experience how ferocious his sister was in battle, and the cause they were engaged in brought out the vicious fury of an enraged mother protecting her child. Isabelle had never really gotten over the death of their younger brother Max, and to think that another child belonging to the Lightwood family might suffer a similar fate….. never on her watch!

Suddenly, a great blast of blue magic shattered the air and raised clouds of dense dust from the ruined buildings that littered the battleground. The fierce fighting paused briefly as combatants struggled to see what had happened, and catch their chocking breaths.  
As the dust settled around the exhausted Aidan Briosag, the High Warlock experienced something unexpected, a moment’s respite, and the faint stirrings of something like hope. He recognized the enormous blast of blue magic, that brought the demon Belial to his knees, before he actually saw Magnus Bane racing towards him. 

Belial roared in pain and fury releasing a wild blast of hellfire as he struggled to regain his feet. Magnus dodged the attack easily and used his magic to disrupt a stone wall behind Belial burying the demon under tons of rock. 

“Magnus! Thank heavens you’re here!” Catarina said as she and Aidan moved quickly to greet him.

“Help me draw a pentagram, that rubble will only hold Belial for a short time!” Magnus yelled over the din of the battle that was picking up again now that the dust had cleared a bit. “Once he’s freed himself from the rock, we will force him back to Edom, preferably in pieces this time!”

Aidan and Catarina scrambled to help Magnus with the pentagram. Normally this kind of work was done carefully and methodically, but the three warlocks didn’t have that luxury. The thundering from the rubble that encased Belial told them that he would free himself very soon. As Magnus placed the finishing touches on the hastily drawn pentagram, he asked Aidan; “M-my child?”

“Safe with Morag;” The High Warlock replied quietly as though that fact hadn’t been won at great cost. Catarina’s arrival with the New York contingent had allowed the other healer to return to her young charge, and to help those of Aidan’s fighters who were brought in wounded.

Magnus gave a brief nod, his expression saying what words could not, that he would be forever grateful for the courage and sacrifice that had kept his only son safe from the powerful enemies arrayed against them. There was no time for further discussion, however, as the roar and thunder of rock, shifted by unbelievable energy, told the three warlocks that their adversary had indeed freed himself. They turned as one to face the fury of the enraged demon, overwhelmed by the scent of burning, of sulphur, of hell. Magnus had been counting on temper to cloud Belial’s judgement, and he wasn’t disappointed.

Catarina and Aidan broke left working their way behind Belial as Magnus grabbed the demon’s attention, taunting him in the hopes he would not notice the pentagram until it was too late.

Belial roared in fury as his rage focused on Magnus Bane. The demon’s anger eclipsing the fact the warlock was the son of Asmodeus, Prince of Hell, and that, though not particularly fatherly, Asmodeus took a rather perverse pleasure in his powerful child’s exploits. Belial rushed forward sending blasts of hellfire at Magnus, and becoming further enraged as the warlock seemed to dodge them easily. At the last minute, however, a glance down told him he was teetering on the edge of a pentagram that would send him back to Edom. “You will not trick me so easily warlock!” The demon snarled as he made to step away from the trap that had been laid for him. 

“Now!” Magnus yelled, and prayed he would be able to avoid Belial’s next blast of hellfire or, if not, that his magic would be sufficient to protect him from the worst of it. The next few seconds seemed to unfold in slow motion. Magnus watched as Aidan and Catarina came from their positions behind Belial to send united blasts of magic at the demon’s knees. A tremendous scream rent the air as Belial collapsed forward into the pentagram, and a final blast of hellfire engulfed Magnus.

The massive demon seemed to disintegrate leaving behind nothing but dust and the overwhelming stench of burning and sulfur. With the loss of Belial, the majority of the Hellfire Club seemed to lose their taste for the conflict, and began to beat a hasty retreat out of the Edinburgh Underground. Dante Serpens, seeing the lay of the land, used his remaining magic to cloak the Abbot and portal him away from the dreadful scene as soon as they were clear of the wards. 

Alec Lightwood watched helplessly, praying when the dust settled his husband, the love of his life, would still be alive. They had been through so much together, and the thought that Magnus might be taken from him, without any chance for a final word or touch was almost too painful to bear.

Aidan and Catarina were closest to Magnus and rushed forward as soon as enough of the dust had cleared for them to see the warlock’s prone form. Catarina knelt down, sending her healing magic out to assess Magnus’ condition.

“Cut it out Cat! That tickles.” Magnus wheezed, his throat dry and irritated.

A moment later, Alec was there, on his knees, arms around Magnus sobbing in relief.

“Oh Alec, my Alec it’s alright, it’s alright now;” The warlock murmured stroking Alec’s back soothingly.

The battle weary members of the Edinburgh underground and their New York allies formed a protective circle around the pair, only breaking it to allow Morag Nightshade to pass carrying the couple’s son. 

As soon as little Aiden caught site of his fathers, the boy struggled to get down, crying “Papa! Daddy!” and flew into their arms as fast as his small legs would carry him. The reunion of this small family who had been through so much touched all those present, and there were very few dry eyes among the onlookers.

Aidan Briosag opened his home to the survivors of the battle ensuring that the wounded were tended to, and everyone fed. A fire message from the Edinburgh Institute informed the High Warlock that the remaining members of the Hellfire Club, except for Druganin and Serpens, had been arrested as they tried to flee the underground. They would be taken to Idris for trial at the Court of Assize. The hunt for the Abbot and his Circuitor was underway. The message was signed by Robert lightwood, Inquisitor.

Aidan Briosag knew that tomorrow would bring the sad task of burying the dead, and the hard work of re-building the Edinburgh Underground. But for this one night, he would count his blessings, the child was safe and back with his doting parents, and he was surrounded by many of the people he considered treasured friends. Old prejudices and mistrust had been challenged through this difficult time and been set aside. The Accords had worked, and Aidan would take that as a victory.

Magnus sat next to Alec who had little Aiden asleep on his lap. Neither of them could bear to have the boy out of their sight at the moment. Alec’s free arm reached out to pull Magnus closer, and the warlock wondered what he had ever done to deserve the love of this extraordinary man? Whatever it was, he knew as he laid his head on Alec’s strong shoulder, he was grateful, he would always be grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this posted. Just one more chapter to go! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story!


	42. Chapter 42

Dante Serpens paced the floor of a small reception area. He was in the Romanian home of his long-time friend and associate Vladimir Druganin. Things had been strained between the two of them since the disastrous events in the Edinburgh Underground. Druganin felt, unreasonably in Serpens opinion, that they could still have won the day even without Belial. The Abbot believed he could have rallied the Hellfire Club and snatched the victory away from Briosag and his allies. 

Finally a servant opened the office door and ushered Serpens into his master’s office. It was the first time the two men had been together in several months, and the warlock was quick to sense his reception would be frosty from the cold eyes with which his old friend regarded him, and the slight sneer that graced his otherwise stoic face.

Suppressing a sigh, Serpens gave a slight bow to indicate he was at the Abbot’s disposal, before saying; “I came as soon as I got your summons Abbot. What do you require of me?”

Druganin rose slowly from his desk and began to pace around the room like a caged tiger. “News from Idris has been bad. Many of our prominent members have been found guilty and are now imprisoned. It will take us decades to recover. I need to send out a message to those club members who remain.”

“What do you wish to tell them Abbot?” Serpens asked, assuming he would need to get the word out as soon as Druganin dismissed him.

Suddenly, without warning a dagger flashed out and buried itself in Serpen’s chest.

“I need you to tell them that failure will not be tolerated, old friend;” Druganin hissed as Serpens slid bonelessly to the floor.

~~~~!!!!~~~~

It was a few days before Christmas, and the New York Institute had been decorated top to bottom with evergreen boughs, fairy lights and sumptuous red velvet ribbons. A large tree dominated one corner of the lounge hung with beautiful hand blown glass ornaments and icicles, and surrounded by brightly wrapped presents. 

Nestled among the expensive, store-bought decorations were oddly shaped paper ornaments sculpted by an enthusiastic three year old under the watchful eyes of his doting aunt. These were the items on the tree that always drew Alec’s attention first when he entered the room. He had just finished putting a rather excited Aiden to bed. The boy had spent the day with his grandparents, Robert and Maryse, having his picture taken with Santa at Macy’s, and viewing the huge Christmas tree in Rockefeller Plaza. 

Alec moved over to the bar and poured himself a glass of wine before joining Magnus on the sofa in front of the fireplace. A cheerful blaze lit up the hearth and helped to give the room its warm glow and festive charm. Magnus lifted his arm in a gesture of welcome, and Alec wasted no time settling himself in his husband’s embrace.

“Aiden asleep?” Magnus asked, looking very much as though he would be joining his son in that state very soon.

“It’s harder to get him settled this close to Christmas, but he was pretty tired from his outing today;” Alec replied, adding; “You seem pretty tired too.”

“Ughh, Alec you have no idea what it’s been like since we got back from Edinburgh! Every warlock within a thousand mile radius has been contacting me to see about the possibility of having a child!” Magnus stated looking thoroughly put upon.

Alec sighed softly and said; “It shouldn’t be too much longer before the new laws are in place and they can go to properly trained warlock healers to have the spell done;”

“Well, it can’t happen soon enough, I never signed up to run a warlock fertility clinic!” Magnus retorted, not quite ready to be placated.

Alec wisely decided to change the subject. “Shivvy and Daniel arrive tomorrow, will you be available to open a portal at noon?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem;” Magnus replied; “It will be good to see them and catch up on all the news from Edinburgh.”

Josh, Ian, Daniel and Shivvy had remained in Edinburgh after the fighting to help with the rebuilding. Alec and Magnus had stayed as long as they could too, but New York needed its High Warlock and the Institute needed its head, so they had been the first to return. Josh and Ian followed a few months later, but Daniel and Shivvy elected to make Edinburgh there permanent home. Shivvy had even taken the courageous step of introducing Daniel to her mother. The first meeting had been about as awkward as could be imagined, but time and better acquaintance would, no doubt, make a huge difference.

Alec and Magnus’ quiet time was summarily interrupted by Jace, Izzy, Josh and Ian tumbling into the lounge all talking at once. One glance at his husband’s face told Alec that if he didn’t restore some order to the room, the rowdy bunch would find they had closed zippers instead of mouths. Without delay, Alec got refreshments and handed them out on the theory that one couldn’t talk and drink at the same time. 

As they all gravitated to their favourite seats in the lounge, Alec asked Izzy if they had finished the last of the holiday shopping.

“Under control big brother!” Izzy reported. “You should have been with us the crowds were insane!”

“I think I was better off here!” Alec said shuddering. Shopping wasn’t his favorite activity at the best of times, but battling hordes of Christmas shoppers would have made it a positive punishment. When he looked over at his partner, however, Magnus was pouting, and Alec thought perhaps he’d better check with the Clave again and find out when things would be in place for the healers to take on the fertility spell, before Magnus went into shopping withdrawal.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, Jace gravitated to the piano playing some soothing classical music while the rest talked quietly among themselves. Alec rose pulling Magnus up with him, saying; “Let’s go check on Aiden and then have an early night;”

Magnus nodded his head as he smothered a huge yawn.

“Sooo…” Jace said, “Seeing as its close to Christmas, we could delay morning training until 11:00, don’t you think?”

Alec snorted, “Morning training will be the same time as usual, so I suggest you all get an early night!”

“Killjoy!” Izzy said, but the smile on her face indicated she hadn’t really expected any other response. “Come on guys, no rest for the wicked;” And with those words they all trooped out, wishing Alec and Magnus a good night as they passed.  
Alone in their bedroom after checking that Aiden was sleeping peacefully, Magnus turned to Alec and said; “Once the new laws have been finalized, what would you say to a little brother of sister for Aiden?”

Surprised, Alec took a moment to consider, then smiling softly said, “I think that would be wonderful!”

“So do I;” Magnus replied grinning. They had come through some trying times, but now it seemed as if the future was beckoning, and it was full of promise. He took his husband in his arms and realized, not for the first time, that this was the life he had always been searching for, and he would fight to keep it.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well That's it, the end of the story. Thank you to everyone who sent kudos and comments, you guys are the best!

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the first chapter of the new story. I will be posting Chapter 2 on Friday and weekly after that.


End file.
